Find Our Way Back
by CameronM201
Summary: Post 4x04 – Blair relearns what it means to be queen and reigns over Manhattan. Chuck defeats his past and attempts to take back his own empire. Serena leaves childhood behind and faces her greatest fears. Nate becomes a stronger man with the help of the person who makes him most vulnerable. CB, NS.
1. Why

FIND OUR WAY BACK

A Gossip Girl Fanfic

Author: CameronM201

Pairing: Chuck and Blair (With NS)

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Why**

How many times, do I have to try to tell you

That I'm sorry for the things, I've done?

But when I start to try to tell you

That's when you have to tell me

Hey, this kind of trouble's only just begun

I tell myself too many times

Why don't you ever learn to keep your big mouth shut?

That's why it hurts so bad, to hear the words

That keep on falling from your mouth

-"Why" Annie Lennox

"I know what you did Blair," Chuck said, his calm voice a strong contrast to the fury in his eyes. "It's despicable even for you. Do you hate me so much you can't stand to see me happy?"

"No," Blair responded, not knowing how to continue, but searching for the words desperately. Why was it that Chuck was the only one who could make her tongue-tied?

"So why did you drive the person I care most about out of town?" Now the anger was all over his face and pulsating through his voice.

Blair just looked at him. She wanted to tell him the truth, but after he called Eva the person he cared most about, she just couldn't.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" Chuck sneered. "Is this your revenge for what I did? Because I thought we were past that now."

"How could you ever think that?" Blair yelled, not bothering to mask the fury and hurt she was feeling. "You really think that I've already forgiven and forgotten? That I ever could? But that's not even the reason I did what I did."

"Well, please enlighten me then, Blair." Chuck was quickly losing patience, judging from the glances he was throwing at the elevator.

"It wasn't fair. You trade me for a hotel and end up happy with a new, perfect girl in only a few months, and what do I get? A summer in Paris during which all I could think about was you, and a living hell when I return to New York. Complete misery."

"So you did this because you were jealous of Eva?" Chuck was intrigued now; Blair could tell. But while she certainly had his attention, she didn't like the hint of amusement she saw in his expression.

"No!" She shot back.

"Then, why? Because I hate to break it to you Blair, but life isn't fair."

"I know that better than anyone, Chuck," Blair said, wondering how much more she was willing to share with him tonight, how much more she could handle sharing. "But we're a little closer to fair now, seeing as we're currently both miserable. I lost you, and you lost Czech Barbie."

"So you expect me to accept this, be okay with it? Because I hurt you, I should just rollover when you hurt me back?"

"No... Maybe. It's just that you hurting me didn't stop with the hotel or with Jenny. You've been perfect with Eva. You buy her a fancy watch worth more than anything you ever bought me, take her to the best restaurants and events, parade her around like she's a princess and treat her like one…better than me. That's what people are saying on Gossip Girl, at least."

"And you care what people on Gossip Girl think?"

"You know I do," Blair responded defensively. "Especially when I agree with them. But what you do isn't even the worst of it." Blair's voice changed into something bitter and above all, heart-wrenchingly sad. "It's what you say that hurts the most."

Blair lowered her eyes and peeked periodically at Chuck, wondering if he would immediately know what she meant, or if this summer apart had weakened his ability to read her thoughts.

"I don't know what you're referring to, Blair, but I'm sure you'll tell me." Blair had her answer. Chuck clearly didn't know. This was her last chance to hold back like she had since Paris, but she felt the words slipping off her tongue despite her reservations.

"Tonight you said that Eva helped you turn your life around. You've said that she saved you in more ways than one, that she made you into a man you were proud to be… All I did for two years, Chuck, was try to do those things for you, and Eva is able to do it in two months? I loved you, and all I wanted was to save you and make you happy, but I just ended up destroying myself. So, yes, I put your passport in her bag. And if you hate me for it, fine. I'd rather you hate me than feel nothing toward me at all, which is what you've seemed to do ever since we left Paris. And maybe you wouldn't have said those things if you'd known how they would affect me, but it seems more likely that you just didn't care enough to consider my feelings at all." Blair could feel her heart pounding and her chest rapidly rising and falling as she spilt over in emotion.

"I've said all I needed to. I think you know the way out," she finished in a voice she hoped sounded strong. She didn't look up to see Chuck's face as he walked away. She didn't want to know what he was thinking or read the emotions in his dark eyes, because she was too scared that they would make her wounds even deeper than they already were. It wasn't until she heard the soft "ding" of the elevator that she let the first tear fall silently down her cheek.

This is the joy, that's seldom spread

These are the tears, the tears we shed

This is the fear, this is the dread

These are the contents of my head

And these are the years, that we have spent

And this is what they represent

This is how I feel, do you know how I feel?

'Cause I don't think you know how I feel

**Until next time - xoxo**


	2. My Friends

**Chapter 2: My Friends**

My friends are so depressed  
I feel the question  
Of your loneliness  
Confide, 'cause I'll be on your side  
You know I will, you know I will

-"My Friends" Red Hot Chili Peppers

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to need you to repeat what you just said." Serena flipped her golden mane over her shoulder and held her phone closer to her ear. "Blair told you that, and you just walked away? Like, without a word?" She batted her hand at the waiter to indicate she wasn't ready to order. Serena knew it was rude to talk on her phone in a restaurant (she was her mother's daughter, after all, and good manners were important in the VDW home), but this was too important to wait to talk about it. Her best friend and stepbrother's path had been a complicated one, one filled with hurt on both ends, and she felt some responsibility to keep them both as happy as possible. If that meant talking on her phone in a five-star restaurant, then she would do it.

"Chuck, that's insane!" She nearly shouted as she slammed her hand on the table. Her water came dangerously close to tipping, its ice cubes scurrying up the side of the glass. "I don't know how you felt about Eva, because I didn't want to. But now it's Blair we're talking about, and I'd like to know if you still have feelings for her!"

"What do you mean it's none of my business? I'm her best friend, and you and I are related, in case you've forgotten. So, yes, I do think it's my business. And with Nate out of town, I'm the only person you've got to talk to about it. Let's face it. You don't have any other friends." Serena let out a sigh as she realized Chuck had hung up on her; he could be so difficult sometimes. She didn't understand how Blair could read his emotions so easily, even by just a look or the tone of his voice. He was utterly undecipherable to her. Serena called the waiter back over. It was clear from his expression that he expected an apology for her distracting phone conversation, but she simply ordered her salad and handed him the menu. She didn't owe him anything. She was Serena van der Woodsen, it girl of New York City. She didn't owe anyone anything, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to try to help Blair and Chuck get out of the darkness they had retreated into and return them to light. It was just so hard to get those two to see the sunny side of life.

**Gossip Girl: With B and C both MIA, it seems the Upper East Side is at a standstill. They always were the best at drama. But with the launch of Insomniac so close at hand, the only question is, who will be the first to come out and play? You know you love me.**

Blair peered down at the new Gossip Girl blast. Insomniac. That was the new exclusive club that was opening next Friday night. She sighed as she realized she couldn't possibly go. It was incorrigible, considering Chuck would be in attendance. He was business acquaintances with the owner and had helped fund it, so there was no chance he would miss it. She had been avoiding him ever since her confession three nights ago. What seemed a good idea (or at least not a bad one) at the time had become regret, a mountain of regret. Sure, she'd had reservations about laying everything she was feeling on the table, but she'd thought that she'd at least get some relief afterwards. Maybe even some closure. But all Blair felt was anxiety. She had replayed everything so many times in her head that she wondered if she was even remembering reality anymore, or if now, all that she was thinking of were products of her overactive, and far too busy, imagination. She had become a real life insomniac, and ironically, she wouldn't even be able to go to the opening for the club that bared her new title. Obviously, she was going to have to find something else to do that Friday, like watch _Tiffany's_ for the millionth time. Then again, she hadn't watched _Charade_ in a while, and _Funny Face_ always brightened her mood…

**Gossip Girl: Spotted – S buying a sparkling stunner at Versace. There's no chance any male insomniacs will ever want to go to sleep with our favorite blond wearing that. You know you love me.**

Serena carried the garment bag out of Versace, glad that its opaque blackness concealed the dress she was planning on wearing at Insomniac next Friday. She walked down the street, eyeing the gorgeous shops and drool-inducing window displays, and realized just how much she loved shopping in New York City. She only wished she had B by her side. Serena held her long, tanned arm out and was immediately bombarded by three yellow cabs pulling over to the side of the street. She slid into the first one and gave the cabbie Blair's address. She had waited three days, attempting to come up with a plan, but now she had wasted enough time. She would just have to wing it with Blair and hope that things didn't go disastrously wrong.

"Blair?" Serena called, looking around the penthouse.

"Upstairs!"

Serena knocked on Blair's door, just to be safe, and then opened it and walked in on a sight she had imagined but hoped she wouldn't see. Blair was lying in bed in the pink flannel pajamas only Serena and Dorota were allowed to see her in. Surrounded by stacks of fashion magazines, used tissues (at least, they were crumpled enough that they appeared to be used), and DVD cases, it seemed that Blair had not left her room at all in three days. Despite the fact that it was noon, Blair's blinds were shut, and she had remainders of various meals on her nightstand, including but not limited to: a blueberry muffin, a bowl left with only lettuce, an orange peel, and package upon package of macaroons. This was going to be a bigger challenge than Serena had anticipated.

My friends are so distressed  
And standing on  
The brink of emptiness  
No words, I know of to express  
This emptiness

I love all of you  
Hurt by the cold  
So hard and lonely too  
When you don't know yourself

**Until next time - xoxo**


	3. I Don't Trust Myself With Loving You

A/N: Thanks for the reviews I've gotten so far! You guys are so great, and I just had to write this chapter right away :) Enjoy!

**Chapter 3: I Don't Trust Myself With Loving You**

Hold on to whatever you find baby  
Hold on to whatever will get you through  
Hold on to whatever you find baby  
I don't trust myself with loving you

- "I Don't Trust Myself With Loving You" John Mayer

Well, this hasn't been a disaster so far, Serena thought, as Blair let out a small giggle at the movie they were watching. After she had forced Blair to recount her version of the events three nights ago, Serena didn't plan on pushing her any further for the moment, but she did want to know what was going on in her best friend's head.

"Blair?" she started slowly, abandoning the many worries she had. She had to try having an honest conversation before resorting to scheming, because if it came to that, there was no question she would be on the losing end of things.

"Serena?" Blair responded, a hint of laughter still in her voice.

"Have you considered maybe talking to Chuck again? I know you're upset, but-"

"Upset?" Blair interrupted, all traces of laughter gone from her voice. "Upset? That does not begin to cover what I'm feeling right now! In fact, I may never speak to that Basstard ever again after everything he's done. And that is perfectly fine with me."

"Blair. Please don't do this. You're doing the denial thing you always do when you're really, really –"

"When I'm really what? Just spit it out S!"

"It's just that I can't think of a word other than upset! Especially with you looking at me like that; it's making me nervous!" Blair automatically softened her face, and the amusement returned to her large brown eyes.

"Better? Do I look less 'upset' now?"

"Yes. Thank you. But you know, Blair, you're only going to feel worse the longer you put things off with Chuck. You're going to have to face him eventually, and I don't want everyone you care about to have to duck and cover when you do."

"Are you suggesting that Chuck and I can't be civilized?"

"Of course not!" Serena recovered quickly. Blair was all over her tonight; it was either pent up emotion at Chuck or she was just going stir-crazy by never leaving her bedroom. "But if senior year is any sign of how easily things can slip back into mind games, then anywhere you two are could be left with a path of destruction." Serena winced, expecting Blair's face to return to the vicious one she reserved for wannabes carrying knockoff Chanels, but it didn't. Instead, it looked thoughtful, like she was considering Serena's words.

"I hate to admit it, but you do have a point. At the train station in Paris, I told Chuck that it wasn't my world without him in it, and for me to block him out completely would never work, especially with our social circles being what they are. But it's going to take a lot of making it up to me for me to even consider to speak to him again."

"What do you want him to do?" Serena asked, recognizing an opportunity to gain insight for Chuck.

"Chuck knows me better than anyone," said Blair, running her thin, pale fingers smoothly over the duvet. "He'll figure something out." She flicked her eyes to the framed picture of her and Chuck smiling widely from her first day at NYU. "He better."

**Gossip Girl: Spotted – C and S lunching at Masa. Congrats, C! You're back on my radar, and you know what that means. Don't do anything you wouldn't want talked about. You know you love me.**

"Tell me again why we're here?" Chuck asked, flinching a little at the way Serena was slurping up her Japanese noodles.

"Chuck," Serena warned, swallowing her food. "I thought I told you to be pleasant."

"This is me being pleasant!" Chuck replied, clearly exasperated. "I'm supposed to be at work right now, not on a three hour lunch break."

"Well, the three hour guesstimation was if you were being unpleasant. If you're nice to me, that could chop an entire hour off the time."

"Alright then." Chuck cleared his throat, fixed his bowtie until it was perfectly aligned, and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. "Please, dear sister, tell me why you have so kindly brought me to a five-star restaurant for lunch."

"Much better!" Serena grinned. "We're here because we need to decide how you're going to win Blair back. We need a plan, something that will be super romantic…" Serena's thoughts drifted back to better times, when people used to do things like that for her. Well, not people. Dan and Nate. But this wasn't about her or them; it was about her best friend and stepbrother.

"Serena, Blair didn't say that she wanted me to win her back. She just wants me to apologize; 'make it up to her,' I think were the words you used. How did it go from that to winning back her romantic affections?"

"Isn't it one and the same with Blair?" Serena responded, twirling more noodles onto her fork. "This is so good," she muttered to herself.

Chuck laughed as he looked at his stepsister. "Do you need anything, sis? Forklift maybe? That's the only way you could possibly get any more noodles into your mouth."

"Hey!" Serena snapped her napkin on Chuck's shoulder in mock-anger. "Nice, remember?"

"Right," Chuck agreed, a serious expression masking his amused one. "What you're saying about Blair, though. Maybe this time she doesn't want to be more than friends. You've seen how well our relationship ended the last time, and I don't want to do that to her again. It's not fair to her, to either of us."

"Ugh, gross Chuck, you sound like Blair. I thought we were on the same page that life isn't fair!" Serena waved her hands around in a frustrated gesture.

"It's not," Chuck responded calmly. He borrowed Blair's reasoning from a few nights ago. "But at least this will make it more fair."

I will beg my way into your garden

Then I'll break my way out when it rains

Just to get back to the place where I started

So I can want you back all over again

**Until next time – xoxo**


	4. Go Do

**Chapter 4: Go Do**

Go sing, too loud  
Make your voice break- Sing it out  
Go scream, do shout  
Make an earthquake...  
Go drum, too proud  
Make your hands ache - Play it out  
Go march through crowds  
Make your day break...

- "Go Do" Jonsi

Serena was feeling especially pleased with herself. She may have promised Chuck that she wouldn't insist on him making any romantic gestures toward Blair, but she never promised that she wouldn't make them on his behalf. She knew he was going to be upset with her, but her mother was hiring a florist for a brunch anyway and would never notice a few extra bouquets of pink peonies on her bill. Serena was sure that the sweet, pink flowers would delight Blair, and Chuck would forgive Serena as soon as she recounted the reaction that would no doubt be a positive one.

"Serena!" Serena's head jerked backwards as she recognized Dan's voice. What was he doing on the Upper East Side?

"Oh hey, Dan," she responded, running her fingers through her hair in an attempt make it look like she'd at least tried to brush it that morning. She didn't know why she always had this inferiority complex with the boy from Brooklyn; Blair had reminded her hundreds of times that she was far too good for someone like him._ "Does he even shower?" _Blair had added, rolling her eyes. Serena shook off the memory and instead looked at Dan, who appeared to be feeling very awkward. "So what brings you to this side of town so early?" she asked, attempting to get the conversation rolling.

"Oh, um, coffee," he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously.

"And you decided to drive all the way over the Brooklyn Bridge for…coffee?" Serena tried to suppress a smile. She didn't want to push him, but she was curious to see how he would respond.

"Uh, yeah, I just got this craving for the stuff from the little French breakfast place your mom recommended. It's the best stuff, really." Dan tugged at the straps on his messenger bag. "So, I guess I'll see you around, Serena. Better, uh, get that coffee." He gave her a little nervous laugh before turning around and beginning to walk. In the opposite direction of the French breakfast spot.

"Dan?" He turned back and cautiously returned to his previous spot.

"Yeah?"

"The breakfast place is the other direction."

"Oh," he said, laughing that anxious laugh again. It was started to make Serena anxious too. "Right, of course, yeah."

"Have a nice breakfast," Serena offered, giving him a small wave.

"Thanks. Good to see you, Serena." As he walked off, this time in the right direction, Serena smiled and watched him until he disappeared in the sea of people, just a small brushstroke lost among the painting that was Madison Avenue.

**Spotted: B finally leaving her penthouse to meet S for a little retail therapy at Bergdorf's. Will she be showing off her buys at Insomniac on Friday? Only time will tell. You know you love me.**

"Ugh, I look like a prostitute," Blair whined, turning this way and that as she examined herself in the Herve Leger bandage dress.

"A high class one, though!" Serena added in her usual upbeat way. But Blair could still tell something was off.

"What's going on S?" she asked. "Spill. Now."

"Nothing," Serena responded, unable to meet Blair's eyes. "I just ran into Dan this morning, and…I don't know. I think I miss him."

"No!" Blair screeched. "No you do not, Serena van der Woodsen!"

"Oh come on, Blair." Serena rolled her eyes. "I know you're not Dan's biggest fan – "

"I'm not a fan at all!" Blair interjected.

"Okay," said Serena, laughing a little while maintaining her serious demeanor. "I get it. But Dan and I had something really special, you know? He was my first real love, and I've never completely forgotten about him. He was the definition of great boyfriends."

"Please, S." Blair's voice was official with just a dash of condescension. "If you want the honest definition of Dan Humphrey as every other person on planet earth sees him with the exception of the badly-dressed hippie, his father, his tramp of a sister, and you, all you have to do is ask. I will hold nothing back."

"Alright, Blair," Serena sighed. "Let's hear it."

"Dan Humphrey," Blair announced. "Noun. The Dan Humphrey is a product of the disastrous experiment of the genetic merging of a black poodle and a middle-aged, bookish lesbian." She looked at Serena to make sure it was safe to continue. Serena was stifling a laugh; she was in the clear. "Despite his creepy and stalker-like ability to lurk in corners, spy on people, and eavesdrop, the Dan Humphrey's presence can always be realized by his distinct scent – sweat, Brooklyn dirt, and desperation." Serena could no longer hold it in; she erupted into fits of giggles. Blair was encouraged and continued, her voice becoming even louder and more like an obnoxious but informative narrator. "The Dan Humphrey's, also known as Lonely Boy's, hobbies include playing Scrabble with his father and also wondering why he has no life other than playing Scrabble with his father. Luckily, in an estimated seventy years, the Dan Humphrey population will become extinct, and no future generations will have to suffer from the species' horrible existence." Serena clapped loudly; Blair curtseyed. "Thank you, thank you," she said, grinning widely. "It was nice to get those feelings out in the open. I feel like there's been a weight lifted off my shoulders, but unfortunately it seems to be stuck on my lungs. I cannot breathe in this dress!" Both she and Serena were laughing now. The two best friends, one blond, one brunette, had not a care in the world for the first time in a while, and it felt good.

**Spotted: S meeting C at the Empire for a meeting dressed to the nines. Unfortunately, the two don't seem to be prepping for a night on the town. Too bad. I always was a fan of mixing business and pleasure. You know you love me.**

"Serena," Chuck said, his tone official and formal. "Lovely to see you. I was hoping to talk to you about a certain shipment of pink peonies set to be delivered to Blair tomorrow morning."

"No!" Serena cried. "How did you find out?"

Chuck looked at her incredulously. "Serena, did you honestly think Lily wouldn't notice an extra hundred bouquets she was being charged for? Especially coupled with the fact that they weren't even being shipped to her address."

"I guess it was pretty stupid," Serena admitted sheepishly. "I just got so worked up about it, I didn't really think it through. I'm sorry. I know you didn't want to do anything romantic."

"No," Chuck countered, "but flowers can be a friendly gesture too. They don't always have to be romantic."

"Really?" asked Serena, excited that Chuck seemed on board with her idea.

"Really. Which is why I ordered another 630 to go with the first hundred." Serena felt her jaw drop.

"You're sending her…" she did the math in her head. "730 bouquets? How does that make any sense?"

Chuck looked pensive as he responded simply, "Blair will understand."

You wish surprise would never stop wonders  
You wish sunrise would never fall under  
We should always know that we can do anything

**Until next time – xoxo**


	5. Everyday I Write the Book

**Chapter 5: Everyday I Write the Book**

Don't tell me you don't know the difference  
Between a lover and a fighter  
With my pen and my electric typewriter  
Even in a perfect world where everyone was equal  
I'd still own the film rights and be working on the sequel

-"Everyday I Write the Book" Elvis Costello

Dan was still preoccupied after his run in with Serena the day before. He knew he had been right not to share the truth with her – that he had been following her for eleven blocks straight since she was first spotted on Gossip Girl. He wasn't obsessed with her or anything, but it would be what she would assume if she saw him following her. It was just that he had gotten writer's block. Again. In the past, Serena had always been able to get the gears in his head back to working mode; therefore normally, this would be the time when he would throw himself on her, begging her to take him back and praying silently that it would work in relieving his writer's block, but Vanessa complicated things too much for that. Hence, the following Serena around. But when no new ideas popped into his brain, he decided to call her name and see if the creative juices would begin to flow during their conversation. As usual, his plan had failed miserably. He had made up some lame excuse about French coffee and run away like a dog with a tail between its legs, in the wrong direction no less.

Dan wondered if he would still be feeling this way about Serena if it weren't for the fact that he had spent all of the previous night staring at a blank computer screen. And then, when he felt like the flickering of the cursor was mocking him, he stared at a blank piece of paper instead and had no more success than he had experienced with his laptop. He knew that his failure to write definitely factored into it, but he also realized that when Serena had told him that she had been trying to choose between him and Nate when she got back from Paris, he was hurt that she'd even had to think about it at all.

"Dan?" Vanessa called, walking in the front door of the Brooklyn loft. "There you are! I was just at the bookstore picking up another Hemingway, and I thought you might like this." She pulled a thick novel out of her bag and handed it to him. "Tolstoy," she explained. "That copy was published in, like, the 20s or something. Cool, right?" Dan just looked at her, and in that moment he realized the problem with Vanessa. They talked about books and movies and food and culture. But Dan never felt comfortable sharing more feelings than he had to with her, or even the things that were going on in his life. She was a great friend, and he did love her as a friend, but there was a reason they had never worked as more than that.

"Thanks," Dan said finally, taking the book from her hand. "I can't wait to read it." Vanessa had a satisfied smile on her face and entwined her fingers with the ones of Dan's other hand.

"You know," she began in a low voice. He knew right away that it was supposed to be her seductive voice, but to him, it always came across more as mumbling. He hadn't had the heart to tell her how much it bugged him. He cringed inwardly as she batted her eyelashes in a way that made her appear as if she had a twitch. "I can think of a way for you to show your gratitude," she finished, raising a single black eyebrow. Dan repeated the nervous laugh for what felt like the hundredth time in the past couple of days and slipped his hand out of her grip, a small miracle, considering it was as tight as iron.

"I'm not really feeling up to that now," he offered weakly. "But later, for sure." He knew it was a lie as soon as the words left his mouth. He had no intention of being in the loft that night; that was certain. Until he figured out what was going on with his feelings for Serena, he was going to avoid Vanessa as much as possible.

**Gossip Girl: It seems both Queen B and the King of The Empire are heading to the New York Opera tonight. Will a dramatic reunion ensue or are we just in for some major drama? You know what they say - nothing is over until the fat lady sings. You know you love me.**

"Blair!" Serena sang in her best opera voice. "Are you ready for the opera? Because I know I aaaaammmm!"

"Serena!" she heard Blair yell in annoyance. "I swear to God, if you use that voice one more time, I am going to rip the golden locks right off your head and then stuff them into your mouth so you can't sing anymore!" Serena heard someone chuckle behind her and turned to see Chuck decked out in his best tux.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, already shoving him in the direction of the elevator. "You can't be here right now!" Her blue eyes were wide, and she felt her heart start to pick up. "Blair's not ready to –"

"To see me," Chuck finished for her. "Yeah, I know, but she's not the person I'm here to see." Serena's face morphed into one of confusion.

"Then who?"

"Lily," Chuck answered, his dark eyes unreadable. "Rufus has something for the band he manages, and it came up at the last minute, so she didn't have time to find someone else to take her. I didn't know Blair was coming until now, and I would have respectfully declined the invitation if I had."

"Oh." Serena was at a loss for words. She had to come up with a way to break it to Blair. She had been going on about this opera since spring, and there was no way she would want to go now.

"Serena, I think the best thing you can do is make sure Blair isn't ready for another fifteen minutes at least. I'll go get Lily and convince her to sit in my father's old box seats instead of hers, and then it'll be like I'm not even there." Serena felt herself nodding, and she was astounded at the ability of Chuck to think on his feet. He must have figured how much Blair was looking forward to this. She floated up the stairs, sea blue gown trailing behind her, and gave Chuck one last glance. He didn't appear as assured as he had sounded just a moment ago. He looked…Serena considered, racking her brain for the word that fit best and settled on something simple. He looked sad. She thought for a moment and remembered that Chuck used to take Blair to the opera fairly often, and they would watch, holding hands, from his father's old seats. In fact, he and Blair were probably supposed to go to this one together. She desperately wished that Blair wouldn't see him there, because it was going to be hard enough for her already. But if Serena knew anything about the two, it was that their magnetic pull toward one another would prevent Serena's wish from coming true. They would see each other; there was no doubt in Serena's mind. She just hoped that things didn't fall into the disastrous category until after they had exited the theater.

...

Earlier in the day, Blair had reacted quite well to the flowers. She wasn't ecstatic by any means, but Serena could tell she was pleased. She had picked up the first bouquet that arrived and smiled softly as she inhaled their sweet scent. The deliveryman had patiently waited for her to notice his presence to hand over the form she had to sign. Her eyes flitted over to him and she grabbed the clipboard without a word, signing her name with a flourish.

"Thanks," she said. "I have to figure out where to put these, so feel free to see yourself out."

"Uh, I would Miss –" he looked down at his sheet and stroked his thick, dark mustache distractedly. "Waldorf. But, uh, we got another 729 of those to bring in here, and you're gonna have to decide where you want all of those too." If Blair was shocked, she didn't show it.

"Very well. Just don't knock anything over. It would take you at least three years to pay for anything that's breakable in here." Blair may not have been surprised, but Serena was purely because of Blair's nonexistent reaction to the sheer number of bouquets that were arriving.

"Blair," Serena said carefully. "You did hear him, right?"

"You mean that there are 730 bouquets coming in here?"

"Yeah. Do you understand that number? Does it mean anything to you?" Serena was really curious by this point.

"Did Chuck say it would?" Blair asked with a faraway look on her face. She was probably going through every possible meaning 730 could have.

"Yes, actually, he did." Serena watched Blair's face carefully, but there was no change in her expression.

"Well, then I guess it should mean something to me, shouldn't it?" Blair didn't speak a word about the flowers after that, and Serena didn't dare ask her. But that didn't mean she had stopped wondering for a second.

Chapter One we didn't really get along  
Chapter Two I think I fell in love with you  
You said you'd stand by me in the middle of Chapter Three  
But you were up to your old tricks in Chapters Four, Five and Six

And I'm giving you a longing look  
Everyday, everyday, everyday I write the book

**Until next time –xoxo**


	6. Love Lost

A/N: So, longest chapter yet! I hope you like it, because it is highly unlikely I will be updating for the next week - summer vacation at the lake awaits! :)

**Chapter 6: Love Lost**

Your walls are up

Too cold to touch it,

Your walls are up

Too high to climb

I know it's hard

But I can still hear it beating,

So if you flash you heart,

I won't mistreat it

I promise

-"Love Lost" The Temper Trap

Blair closed her eyes and soaked in the all of the glorious sounds of the opera, and was so close she could feel the heat of the spotlights. She never really needed to watch the performance happening on the stage; it was the music that made her keep coming back. The opera singer's voice was now rising as she reached a climatic note, and her heavy vibrato echoed throughout the theatre. Blair smiled softly and kept her eyes screwed shut, closing her mind off along with them. She didn't want to think about anything but the music permeating through her brain. It was a good thing it was loud, because she could feel thoughts of Chuck and those flowers practically clawing their way in.

"B," she heard Serena whisper beside her. "How can you like this, especially with your eyes closed? It's so boring!" Blair's eyes snapped open and she felt the gears of her brain shift into full drive just as she had been about to slow them to a stop.

"Please, S," she whispered back in a voice laced with venom. "Just because your idea of cultured is watching movies written by James Cameron and reading the style section of the _Times_, doesn't mean it's okay for you to ruin actual culture for me."

"Jeez, B, sorry I said anything," Serena said, rolling her eyes. "I just haven't been to the opera in two years and I'm a little rusty on fake-enjoying it." Blair gasped at Serena's words.

"What did you just say?"

"I said I'm rusty on pretending to like the opera in front of other people," Serena mumbled, worried that Blair was going to scold her for saying it in front of a group of devoted opera attendees. "It's just so – "

"No, S, before that!" Blair was almost shouting now, and the people in the rows directly beside their box seats turned to look at her.

"You mean the part where I said I haven't been in two years?"

"Two years!" Blair clapped her hands together and nodded vigorously. "That's it! Two years!"

"I don't get why you're so excited that I haven't gone to the opera in two years," Serena said, now just troubled by her friend's bizarre reaction to the admission.

"It's not that!" Blair cried gleefully, not even minding that, like always, she was going to have to explain her revelation to Serena. "I told Chuck that all I did for two years was try to make him happy. There are 365 days in a year, so two years would make 730! I knew I'd figure it out eventually!" Serena absorbed the information and then felt herself getting excited as well.

"Oh my God, B! You did it!" Serena felt her golden waves fly everywhere as she hugged Blair tightly. "But wait," she said slowly as she released her grip from Blair's petite frame. "Do you think Chuck purposely made it hard to figure out?"

"Without a doubt," said Blair, still gaining enthusiasm. "He knows I love a good intellectual challenge, and the pink peonies were an added bonus!" Then Blair giggled and sighed contentedly, her intentions of immersing herself in the opera completely forgotten. "But I have to wonder…did he mean that he spent those two years wanting me to be happy too? Or is he saying thank you to me for trying for so long?"

"I don't know, B," Serena responded, reflecting on her stepbrother's attitude as he told her about his plan with the flowers. "He didn't say what he meant by it on a deeper level. All I got from our conversation was that he was pretty confident you would know why there were so many. As for the other meaning, maybe it's both?" she suggested, hopeful for the future she believed Chuck and Blair deserved to have together.

"Maybe." Blair's gaze fell back on the opera singers for the first time since she and Serena began conversing as she felt her excitement deflating. "I just don't know how I can figure it out without asking him, seeing as you're completely hopeless."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Serena, already knowing exactly what Blair was insinuating but at the same time wanting to hear what her response would be.

"I mean that Chuck would see right through you. After five minutes, give or take depending on the time of day you were talking to him, he would know what you and I know and what you and I want to know, and since I don't know if he wants us to know what we don't know, I can't take a risk on you!" Blair took a deep breath, exhausted, and set her mouth into a pout Serena had seen many times over the years.

"Slow down there, B! You're making me dizzy!" Serena laughed, despite the fact that Blair had been completely serious during her complicated outburst and laughing would no doubt get her reprimanded by her best friend. Still, she couldn't resist a few giggles. They were at the opera, after all, and it was rare for Serena to have a good time during a performance.

"Stop laughing, S!" It was the scolding Serena had been anticipating. She knit her eyebrows together and morphed her face into a one of deep concern. "It's not funny! You're not funny!" This only made Serena snicker in an unnaturally high pitch as she saw the expression of horror on Blair's face and noticed all of the angry glares around her. If this was going to be what got her kicked out of the opera, she would have no regrets.

"Excuse me, Miss Van der Woodsen," said an employee, nervously rubbing his hands down his burgundy and gold uniform as he spoke to one of the opera's most influential and important guests that evening. "I have guests requesting that you please lower your voice and attempt to contain your laughter during the performance."

"Yeah, yeah," Serena said airily, waving a hand toward the direction the voice was coming from, not even bothering to look his way. It seemed the opera was enjoying the publicity her presence was giving them far too much to ask her to leave. She checked her phone. The time told her the opera still had a ways to go, which induced an exaggerated sigh worthy of the stage, but it was the fact that she had no new messages that really disturbed her. The press seemed to care about her far more than her friends did lately, with the exception of Blair and Chuck. But then again, Chuck was family. So really, these days, Blair seemed to be her only friend. She glanced over and saw that Blair had closed her eyes again. But unlike before, Blair wasn't hearing any of the music that played below. Now that Chuck had managed to claw his way into her mind, the real task was going to be finding a way to extract him from each one of the thoughts that were swimming through it. They were all she could hear, and she had no hope of silencing them until she knew what Chuck's intentions had been with the flowers.

...

"Charles," said Lilly in a knowing, motherly way. "Are you planning on watching the performance, or are you going to stare at Blair all night?" Chuck laughed softly in response and placed his dark eyes on his stepmother.

"There's not a thing on the stage that can compare to the view in the box above it." Lilly smiled at his response, but it wasn't without hidden concern for the young man she considered her son.

"So, is it safe to assume you two will be getting back together eventually?" Her question sounded innocent, but it was mixed with worry. The irony of the word "safe" had not been lost on her as she felt it slipping through her tongue. Chuck and Blair weren't safe, and that was the primary reason she had reservations about the feelings they so obviously still had for each other.

"I don't know anything for sure," Chuck said, running his hand through his perfect coif of slick brown hair. "But I know you're worried that we will." He turned his chocolate, slanted eyes toward Lilly and she wondered if her voice had betrayed her inner thoughts. Then again, she and Chuck had always been able to tell what the other was thinking, even if their words were saying something completely different.

"Well, Charles, you know that I feel responsible as your mother to look out for your best interests, and I just worry that if you and Blair were to enter into a relationship again, that – "

" – That we would mutually self-destruct," Chuck finished. Lilly nodded in confirmation. "While I don't pretend to know my future and how big a part Blair plays in it, I do know that we aren't going to get back together unless it is going to be a healthy relationship for both of us. I think right now, we're trying to be the best version of ourselves as possible, and that way, we can bring out the good, rather than the bad, of each other."

"You seem to be well on your way," she told him, meaning it whole-heartedly. "Despite the things that you have done in your past, I am proud to have you as a part of my family. You're really growing up. All of you are – even Serena," she said with a light laugh. "I guess I should be starting to feel old, but I'm happy that you all are maturing and getting older, even if it means that I have to get older too. You're finding out who it is you're supposed to be, Charles. It took me a much longer time to even start looking, but when I did, I realized how much I had been missing by defining myself by everything around me." Chuck looked at the woman beside him and realized that no biological mother could ever compare.

"Thank you, Lilly," he said softly, slipping his hand into hers. Even though her skin was rougher and older, her fingers leaner and longer, and her grip not the same, with enough imagination, Chuck could pretend it was Blair's hand he was holding. He stole one more look at her and felt his lips turn up as he realized her eyes were closed. Though everything had changed, Chuck could appreciate that there were some little things that always seemed to stay the same.

Our love was lost

In the rubble are all things

That you've, you've been dreaming of

Keep me in mind

When you're ready

I am here to take you every time

**Until next time - xoxo**


	7. Little Hell

A/N: I am feeling just lovely after a week of vacation at the lake, so I ended up writing not one, but two chapters for you! Does this mean double the reviews? You know you love me ;)

**Chapter 7: Little Hell**

What if everything's just the way that it will be?  
Could it be that I am meant to cause you all this grief?  
My warship's a-lying off the coast of your delicate heart,  
And my aim is steady and true as it's been right from the start.  
-"Little Hell" City and Colour

Serena's eyes were glazed over, and she felt them starting to flutter to a close as the opera stretched on. While she didn't want to get caught dozing during the opera, Blair had _her_ eyes shut, so what was the harm? No one would be able to tell the difference. But just as Serena made her decision, she was jolted by a thunderous wave of applause through the theatre. Blair's face was plastered with a smile, and her dainty hands clapped in a strict, polite rhythm. Serena rolled her eyes and joined in with the rolling thunder of applause, kicking one leg over the other and defying protocol by remaining seated during the standing ovation. But when she felt Blair's smoldering glare burning holes in her back, she grudgingly stood with the rest of the Manhattan socialites and sighed, clapping for a spectacle she had _so _not enjoyed.

Ten minutes and a quick sprint away from an infatuated, burgundy-suited, doorman later, and Serena had finally reached the outside of the theatre. The air smelled like cigarettes, trash, and greasy street food, but given the choice, she'd choose it over the overly-perfumed, stuffy air of the theatre every time. She glanced over her shoulder to ask Blair if she wanted to stop for gelato on the way home (she was really craving a few scoops of raspberry from Il Laboratorio del Gelato), and unlike most nights, she was not going to take no for an answer. She had sat through an entire overly dramatic opera just for Blair, and her ears were still ringing from the soprano's ridiculously high and screechy final note. The least Blair could do was eat some gelato. No, not even that. All she had to do was _watch _as Serena stuffed her face with the creamy dessert. But when Serena swiftly turned in Blair's direction, flicking both her swishy, mermaid-like aqua colored gown and her golden locks aside in the process, she realized that her best friend was not on her heel as she had expected. Oh God, thought Serena, her mind racing. Chuck…

...

"Lilly?"

"Blair?"

"What are you doing here?" both said at once, concerned blue eyes peering into slightly puzzled brown ones.

"Serena and I came together, me out of love for the theatre, and her out of love for me," Blair answered with a grin. "I wish she had told me you were coming, because then I wouldn't have made her miserable by accompanying me. Plus, I'm sure you were much less disruptive during the performance."

"That sounds like Serena," said Lilly, in a way she hoped shielded the slightly anxious edge to her voice. She laughed softly, nodding and adjusting her already perfectly aligned diamond necklace instinctively. "It was lovely seeing you Blair," she continued, her words coming out more rapidly as she became aware that Chuck would be back with their flutes of champagnes in his hands at any second. "And while I wish it didn't have to be so brief, unfortunately, I simply must – "

"Chuck," Blair breathed. Lilly placed a graceful white hand on her forehead and sighed. It appeared she was too late to prevent their sighting, but then again, perhaps she would have only been delaying the inevitable anyway.

"I'll just leave you two to speak," she said quietly, not expecting either to cast an eye in her direction. She ducked out of the way, but not before grabbing one of the flutes of bubbly, gold liquid out of Chuck's firm grasp. "Thank goodness for alcohol," she murmured in a voice so low it was incomprehensible to both Blair and her stepson. She subtly tipped the crystal in their direction. "Liquid luck from me to you." And with that, she took a few uncharacteristically large gulps and drained the entire contents of the glass.

"Chuck," Blair said again, louder this time. "I didn't know you were going to be here." She was noticeably fidgety in her glittering black Valentino and pulled at her glossy curls as she spoke. Though the dress fit her like a glove, it suddenly felt like it was constricting her airways, and she quivered as a bead of sweat slithered, serpent-like, down her neck.

"I didn't know you were going to be here either," he answered, his jaw clenched as he attempted to appear nonchalant. But this was _Blair_. He was sure she could see right through his flimsy façade, his lame attempt at pretending like she was just another person to him, like she wasn't…_her._ He felt his hands start to get clammy and realized they were shining with perspiration, so he immediately shoved them into his pockets where they only proceeded to sweat even more. "Well, at least not until I showed up at Lilly's and Serena looked about ready to strangle me with my scarf." He smirked, hoping to elicit at least a small smile in return and was pleasantly surprised when Blair giggled at his remark.

"Yes, she has been quite protective of me these days," Blair admitted. "Though I don't think Serena would be willing to attempt snatching that J Press off your neck in order to strangle you. You're far more protective of that thing than she is of me." Chuck grinned.

"True. But I seem to remember it looked pretty good on you, too."

"I look good in everything, Bass," said Blair, throwing him a snooty look and shaking out her coffee colored ringlets in disdain.

"You don't do yourself justice, Waldorf. You look _incredible_ in anything. Or nothing," he added in a low drawl, wondering if she would react negatively to sexual jokes when their interaction still felt so new, so raw, despite its familiarity. It was like relearning how to swim after living in the middle of the desert for a time. While you once crashed through the bottomless blue depths of the ocean comfortably, now it appears ominous and formidable, and even a tiny wave's white foam softly curling around your feet can feel dangerous.

"Alright, enough with the flattery." Blair rolled her eyes even though her heart swelled as it always did when Chuck complimented her so genuinely. Though she didn't miss the sexual innuendo, she didn't mind it. This was _Chuck_ after all. He had rarely gotten through a conversation without using one since the sixth grade and since she knew there were still feelings weighing down the air around them, anything that lifted at least a little bit of the weight was welcome. "I actually wanted to thank you."

"For?"

"The peonies, obviously. 730, though?"

"You mean you don't understand?" Chuck asked in surprise. "I must say, Waldorf, I'm disappointed. I thought you'd know the reason by now." He raised a single eyebrow in question. How could she not have figured it out?

"Oh please, Bass. It means two years, obviously."

"Yes," Chuck confirmed, relieved that Blair got his intended meaning. "But if you understand, then why did you ask about the number?"

"Because," Blair sighed, feeling another two drops of sweat crawling down her neck and criss-crossing down her back until finally reaching their destination - the smooth folds of her gown's shimmery onyx fabric. "While I understand the obvious meaning, the two years, I was wondering if there was something else behind that." Chuck's other brow shot up. He hadn't planned on her asking him about the flowers so soon. No, scratch that. He hadn't even gotten so far as to consider the possibility that she would ask about the meaning at all. So instead of opening his mouth and allowing his words to trip over themselves in confusion, he parroted her question back to her, hoping she might offer some insight into what she expected him to say.

"Something else?"

Unfortunately, she responded as simply as possible.

"Yes."

"Well," he began, "I uh – "

"Blair!" Serena linked her arm through Blair's as soon as she reached her. Though the gesture was usually affectionate and friendly, this time, Serena's arm appeared more like a rigid metal cuff, keeping Blair firmly locked to her side. "There you are! We should really get going, don't you think?" Without waiting for an answer, Serena continued babbling, her fake bubbly demeanor overflowing in false positivity. "We _really _need to get some gelato, because I am _starving_!" Blair teetered unsteadily on her five-inch Louboutins as Serena rocketed her around. "Bye Chuck!" Serena called, lifting a manicured hand for a weak goodbye offering as she dragged Blair away.

**Gossip Girl: Seems like B is in for an early exit from the opera. But why isn't her king chasing after his Queen B? It seems this fairytale romance will never reach its "happily ever after." You know you love me.**

There's a degree of difficulty in dealing with me.  
From my haunted past comes a daunting task of living through memories.  
If we could just hang a mirror on the bedroom wall  
Stare into the past, and forget it all...


	8. Who Are We Fooling

**Chapter 8: Who Are We Fooling**

Better or worse but what else can we do  
When better or worse I am tethered to you  
If it's not either of us tell me who are we fooling  
This beautiful tangle that's bruising us blue  
Is the beautiful knot that we just can't undo  
Together we're one but apart tell me who are we fooling  
- "Who Are We Fooling" Brooke Fraser feat. Aqualung

As he watched Serena continue to rush Blair away, Chuck realized that the last time he hadn't said what he needed to in front of Blair, he had regretted it. Heck, he still regretted it. And while Serena seemed extremely determined to get Blair out the door and probably had the advantage speed-wise (her legs really seemed a mile long) Chuck had the advantage intelligence-wise, and he knew there was a second exit that would lead him right to Serena and her captive.

"Wait! Hey, Serena, wait!" Serena ignored him, searching frantically for the town car she had waiting. _Raspberry gelato_, she thought, as both means of encouragement to find the car and resistance from speaking to Chuck. _Raspberry gelato._ But Chuck, knowing she was looking, simply stood squarely, arms crossed in bravado, in front of the car he knew to be hers.

"Oh come on, Chuck," Serena whined. "You never play fair."

"You never set any rules," he countered. "Therefore, there is no such thing as unfair." Blair smirked beside Serena. Even when they weren't in the best place, Blair and Chuck still always wound up gaining up on their blond counterparts, may it be Serena, Nate, or both. Then, and only then, would they face off against one another. Serena recalled many moments of intense competition between the couple that she and Nate had witnessed during games of Monopoly, and one particularly bad screaming match during a round of Risk, during which Blair swore that she had gained China from Nate, while Chuck insisted that he had, in actuality, taken over the territory by attacking it and defeating Serena's army.

"_Chuck! China is mine! Right, Natie?" Blair flashed Nate her sweetest smile, encouraging him to affirm her claim. But before he got a chance to answer, Chuck stood up angrily and contributed his version of events._

"_No it's not, Blair! And you know how I know? I used my North American army to attack Asia, which by the way, Serena had! Not Nate! Right, Serena?" Chuck swiveled his stance around to face his wide-eyed stepsister._

"_I, uh – " Serena began, Chuck's red face becoming more intimidating by the second._

"_Serena never even got into Asia!" Blair interjected, both relieving Serena and distressing her further. She was worried Blair and Chuck were on the verge of going _Real Housewives _on each other and resorting to flipping tables. "She had Africa!" Blair continued, raising her voice an octave. "I think you're getting your continents confused, Bass. Not that I'm surprised, or anything. You did get a D in world geography, and that was only because I helped you pass your final!"_

"_Dammit, Blair! I know the difference between Africa and Asia, considering I was in the latter last week! God, you just can't admit that you're going to lose to me!"_

"_Or you're just upset, because you've never beaten me before, and you're going to lose yet again!" Blair smirked in satisfaction._

"_You know what, Blair? Fine. You win. Have fun celebrating your victory by yourself." Chuck sauntered off, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Blair's smirk faded as swiftly as it appeared._

"_Shit," she muttered before running off after him. Serena and Nate just looked at each other anxiously. Their expressions, however, soon morphed into ones of slight repulsion as they heard wild animal noises coming from Chuck's bedroom, and both blonds moved simultaneously toward the liquor cabinet. Twenty minutes later, Chuck and Blair, both grinning widely, emerged in their previous outfits, looking perfectly put together._

"_So?" Blair asked slyly. "Who's up for another game?" Chuck smirked at his girlfriend. Nate and Serena groaned. Their brunette best friends sure were strange._

Serena smiled fondly at the memory. "Do you guys remember that time you had a huge fight over who controlled China in Risk?" Blair blushed and nodded.

"Of course. That – "

" – Ended very well," Chuck finished for her with a lopsided smile. "Even though Blair cheated me out of a win."

"I did not!" Blair argued, not playfully enough for Serena's comfort level. "I won fair and square, Bass!"

"It was a game from a year ago!" Serena cut in, situating herself between the two. "Who cares?"

"I do!" Chuck and Blair both shouted at once, brows furrowed in frustration toward Serena. Then realizing their identical reactions, they chuckled fondly at each other.

"You guys are so weird," Serena mumbled, shaking her head. This only caused Chuck and Blair to laugh even harder. Their snickers eventually subsided, but their eyes remained locked.

"I know you've been going all guard dog on her lately, Serena, but is it okay if I talk to Blair for a minute?" He asked it like it was a question, but Serena recognized it as her stepbrother's polite request.

"Of course," Serena agreed. "Just stay out of _Real Housewives_ territory," she muttered as she walked away.

"And she thinks we're weird," Blair said, rolling her eyes dramatically. Chuck smiled momentarily before his face hardened in seriousness.

"Blair," Chuck began. "Earlier, about what you asked me – "

"Yes?" Blair encouraged him.

"They were meant as a thank you. For not giving up on me even when I gave you every reason to. For trying to make me happy even when I made everyone else around me miserable. Even you at some points," he went on, the sincerity evident in both his eyes and his tone. "And I'm sorry for that. I'm so, so sorry, Blair."

"I know," she said softly, averting her eyes. "Me too. For what I did to Eva. That was wrong, and I know I said I wasn't sorry, but I am. If she really meant that much to you, I shouldn't have – "

"Yes, you should have." Her eyes returned to his face, searching for any form of anger or bitterness. She didn't find any.

"What?" Blair breathed. "But, but, I," she stammered, confusion taking over her delicate, easily overwhelmed features.

"I was blinded by the fact that someone good could love me. I thought that if Eva could care about me that much then I could be good too. All good, I mean, and I tried to completely block you out, because with you, my dark side took over. I figured that by becoming a man filled with only light, I could prevent myself from hurting anyone ever again. I would never repeat anything like what I did to you." His eyes grew shiny and pooled with unshed tears. "But then – "

"But then?" Blair whispered, feeling the familiar prick of tears in her eyes as well.

"But then, I realized that one can't exist without the other. There is light in me, yes, but without the dark, I don't feel like myself. I need a balance of the two, and even though you were the one who got Eva out of town, I think she would have left eventually when she figured that out. I told her that my darkness was in the past, but I know now that it will always be a part of me, and you were the only one who ever saw all of it, saw all of me, and still loved me in spite of it."

"Not in spite of it," Blair shook her head, the tears cutting like glass down her cheeks. "Because of it. I loved every part of you, the dark and light. And you were the only one who completely accepted both parts of me in return."

"So where does that leave us now?" Chuck asked, not noticing as one of his own tears spilled over, rolling along his strong jaw line before landing on the scarf he was so very protective of.

"I don't know," Blair admitted. She smoothed an imaginary crease in her dress and waited for an answer. She meant it when she said she didn't know where they stood, but it was because of him, not her. She had no idea how he felt toward her, but like always, her heart was screaming out for him, begging her to take him in her arms and never let go, but her mind was weary enough of the possibility of getting back together so soon to churn out a vague response.

"I was talking to Lilly earlier, and I think," Chuck stopped and touched his cheek, finally noticing the hot trail the tears were making. He wiped them away with his scarf. "Never used it for that before," he said, causing Blair to crack a slight smile. "I think," he repeated, his voice back to a serious tone. "That we should spend a little time apart. I need to…find myself again. I may own a company, but I'm still figuring out my place in it, especially with my summer absence. And I need to reconnect with everyone I've been away from, rebuild relationships, starting by rebuilding myself. And I know I didn't destroy you, because while I may be Chuck Bass, you're Blair Waldorf." At this, she smiled again, stronger this time. "But I know I broke you down, and I think you could use some rebuilding too. Am I wrong?"

" No," Blair confessed. "But I wish you were."

"If two people are meant to be together, eventually they'll find their way back." Blair looked into Chuck's eyes as he spoke. The tears had reappeared, and they made tracks through the contours in his cheeks, but this time, he made no effort to wipe them away.

"But how will we know when we're supposed to find each other again?"

"After we find ourselves." Chuck looked at Blair, her red, tear-filled eyes, the stray curls she had pulled out of her ponytail, the sheen of sweat on her neck... To him, she had never looked more beautiful.

"Okay," Blair finally whispered. "Okay."

"Okay," Chuck echoed, fighting every impulse in his body, impulses that were telling him to go toward her, not walk away. But he knew that this was what they needed, both of them.

Blair watched him as he slid slowly into his limo and didn't look away until she couldn't see it anymore.

"B?" Blair heard Serena's voice gently breaking through the flurry of honking horns, chattering, and screeching brakes.

"I'm okay," Blair responded, the tears still falling. "Or at least I will be." She let Serena wrap her arms around her and get her into the still lingering town car.

"I know you will be, B. I know." The rest of the ride was spent in silence, as was the remainder of the night. Serena climbed into Blair's bed right after her without saying a word. Because though Serena was loud, wild, and spirited, she could still recognize that sometimes silence can heal as well as speaking can, and just holding someone like you love them can say more than words ever could.

'Cause real love is hard love  
It's all we have  
It's a break neck  
Train wreck  
It's all we have  
So we're back here again  
Turning away from the edge of the end  
Arm in arm

**Until next time – xoxo**


	9. Carry On

A/N: Yay! Longest chapter yet! So, there isn't much action in this one, but it's a necessary set-up chapter for the action that's going to happen at Insomniac. If you love the D/S/N triangle, then hopefully the upcoming drama will make you _very_ happy.

Also, I forgot that Juliet is a character prior to 4x04, so let's just pretend she doesn't exist, because I don't want to make up a storyline for her. Personally, I found her largely irrelevant and overwhelmingly obnoxious anyway, and her arc stretched for waaaay too long. So, yeah. No Juliet.

**Chapter 9: Carry On**

But I like to think I can cheat it all  
To make up for the times I've been cheated on  
And it's nice to know when I was left for dead  
I was found and now I don't roam these streets  
I am not the ghost you want of me

If you're lost and alone  
Or you're sinking like a stone  
Carry on  
May your past be the sound  
Of your feet upon the ground  
Carry on

-"Carry On" Fun.

"Blair?" Blair felt two reluctant, gentle pokes in the side of her stomach and she groaned in response. "Uh, Blair? It's me, Nate. I just got back from London, and I wanted to see you." This time, Blair enthusiastically responded to the words, throwing off her duvet and wrapping her arms around her friend's neck.

"Natie! I'm so glad you're back!" She smiled fondly at her blond, blue-eyed companion, noting that his skin looked paler from weeks spent in the cloudy London weather, where when it wasn't pouring, there was more often than not a constant drizzle or mist.

"You know, maybe my internal clock is just wacked out, but last time I checked, it's not normal to sleep until two o'clock in the afternoon in New York." He grinned at Blair, flashing his signature megawatt smile that had no doubt melted the hearts of many a British woman on his business trip for the _Spectator_, the newspaper he had began working for after deciding to leave Columbia. Columbia was a place where he had never found his niche, but luckily, he seemed to be extremely happy with his job and had gone to London to scout investors as well as follow a story chronicling the international embezzlement scheme of a high-profile CEO of an investment firm, his first major assignment.

"Well, last night turned out to be a very…trying time for a couple of your friends," Blair admitted slowly, looking periodically at Nate's very concerned and sympathetic face. "How much has Chuck told you?" Even uttering his name was causing her insides to twist in knots, and she had no idea how long it would take to untangle them or if she could even do it at all.

"Actually, I haven't seen him yet," Nate confessed sheepishly. "I, uh, came when I saw that Serena had been spotted at that fancy hair place she goes to." He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. "I just…wasn't ready to see her I guess, after she, you know…" He couldn't bring himself to say the words "cheated," "Dan," or anything else to do with what actually happened to cause the dissolution of their relationship. But if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't quite sure that their relationship _had_ completely dissipated. Apparently, Gossip Girl was under the impression that Serena was going to _choose_ who she wanted to be with, as if both Dan and Nate were lounging around desperately waiting for her all summer, lame, ugly ducklings waiting for their chance to turn into the swan… Ugh, what was he thinking? He blamed Blair for his tendency to revert to fairy tales whenever his mind was jumbled. Growing up, she had frequently used them to parallel events of her life, and he supposed it had rubbed off on him over the years.

"Well, I can understand not being ready to see someone after something like that," Blair said quietly, rubbing his arm in a comforting way. "But you should know she feels really awful about everything that happened. She told me about it this summer, and she – "

"Blair," Nate interjected, slightly wincing. "I'd really rather not talk about it. I wanted to hear about how you're doing. The last time I talked to Chuck, his girlfriend, Eva, had just left town, and he didn't say it, but I have a feeling you had something to do with that. Am I right?" His voice wasn't at all judgmental, one of the things Blair loved most about Nate and the reason she had always felt that he and Serena were good for each other. Unlike Heinous Humdrum Humphrey, Nate never assumed the worst of her best friend, and even if the worst turned out to be the truth, instead of criticizing and then abandoning her, he would hold on to her even tighter, shielding her from whatever pain she had caused.

"Well," Blair said, prepared to tread lightly on the issues but not sure where to start or end her synopsis of the past few days. Nate had never understood the complicated nature of Chuck and Blair's relationship; he believed that two people who loved each other should be together, no questions asked. Love was simple, in Nate's opinion, and that made everything else simple too. But Blair knew better. There was a thin line between love and hate, and when teetering on the tightrope, you could so easily fall onto either side. The night she confessed to getting Eva to leave town, she had been awake for hours, wobbling along the tightrope full of fear, wondering whether her fall to the ground would lead her to heaven or hell, because in the case of her and Chuck, there was no purgatory. "Well," she said again, knitting her brows. "Yes, that was me, and he was angry about it at first…" she continued her candid retelling of the night, editing where she saw fit, but unlike usual, she did not embellish it a bit, as she realized that it was already dramatic enough without the addition of false details.

"Wow," Nate said, feeling as if he was getting a recap of a soap opera rather than an update of his best friends' lives. "So did he say anything after that?"

"No," Blair answered, "not a word. But, then Serena talked to him, and they decided to send me peonies – Serena ordered a hundred, and then Chuck changed the order to 730 to symbolize the two years I spent trying to make him happy."

"You're kidding," said Nate, already knowing that she was entirely serious. Chuck had proved himself to be quite the romantic during his relationship with Blair, and he loved making grand gestures, which of course, had been the cause of the disaster that was the Empire State Building ultimatum.

"Nope." Nate had always been astounded at Chuck's ability to read what Blair was thinking, because the only way he had ever been able to get insight into her thoughts is if he asked her for it. Right now, she seemed stoic, disconnected from everything she was saying. Even her eyes appeared…empty, so unlike the Blair he was familiar with. But he because he had no idea as to the foundation of their emptiness, he needed to hear the rest of the recounting of everything he had missed at home.

"So then what happened?" Blair looked shocked by his voice, as if he was pulling her out of a dream by speaking.

"Oh, um, then we ran into each other at the opera last night." Blair consciously attempted to keep Serena out of the story as much as possible, noticing the weary expression on Nate's face whenever her name was mentioned. She folded her arms tightly across her chest as she spoke, pretending that by doing so, she would be able to block the emotion out of her voice and out of her thoughts; yet by the end of the narrative, she felt the familiar knots in her stomach, the lump in her throat that constricted her breathing, and the burning sensation in her eyes as they failed her. Her voice broke into a million pieces when she repeated Chuck's words _"__If two people are meant to be together, eventually they'll find their way back,"_ and not even Nate could put the pieces back together again. Loving, caring, sweet Nate couldn't deal with a broken Blair, which was why she had shown him that side of her as infrequently as possible for the first seventeen years of her life. That side of Blair scared him even more than the bitchiest, angriest, most intimidating version of herself she could muster, because Blair was the one who had always been counted on to carry everyone else. If she broke, then everyone else did too – Nate, Serena, Chuck… She was the glue that held them together, the one who kept the pieces of each of them not only in place, but also alphabetized, categorized, organized… Everything that needed to be done, she did. But when she began to let Chuck carry her, things were bound to fall apart eventually, not because Chuck didn't love her or couldn't handle taking care of her, but because it just wasn't _Blair_ to _let_ someone else take care of her, even someone who loved her as much as Chuck did.

"So, what does all of this mean?" Nate asked her finally, after he had let her cry into his pinstriped dress shirt for a few minutes until she gathered herself, putting her own pieces back together. The way it was supposed to be, Nate added internally. Though he was glad Chuck and Blair had seemingly worked things out, he still harbored a shadow of resentment in his heart for what Chuck had done last spring. While he had always known they weren't right for each other romantically, Nate had constantly been protective of Blair and in the course of their relationship, short-lived as it was, he also grew to be defensive of Jenny Humphrey as well. It was in his nature, he supposed, to be protective of the women he cared about – his mother, Blair, Jenny, Serena… Serena, perhaps, not so much at the moment, or at least he liked to imagine that was the case. But deep down, he knew he would still do anything for her.

"Exactly what he said," Blair said quietly, wiping her eyes one last time. "We find ourselves, and then, we'll find our way back to each other."

"How are you going to do that? Find yourselves?"

"I – I don't know yet." Blair glanced around her room as if it was hiding the answer from her. "Nate!" she suddenly shrieked as her eyes landed on the clock by her bed. "Serena is going to be home any minute. If you're really serious about avoiding her, then you'd better go." Nate was torn. He wanted to see her so badly, just so that he could know for sure whether she _would_ have picked him, or if she would have, as usual, reverted to her default setting of Dan Humphrey, but he also knew that he was done being her second choice, and because Dan was currently with Vanessa, as Blair had informed him distractedly during her tale, that's all it would feel like if Serena chose to be with him now.

"I guess I'll leave," he said, a heart-wrenching look on his face. "Bye Blair."

"Natie?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For letting me ruin your shirt, I mean." Blair granted him a grateful grin.

"Anytime," he finished, flashing her one last smile in return, one that would have no doubt caused her to swoon a few years ago. Now she just felt a warm fondness for Nate Archibald, a man she once assumed to be her Prince Charming. He would sweep her off her feet like Cinderella (not that she would have ever gone through the poverty stricken, manual labor part of the story) and they would live happily ever after in a fancy castle in the Hamptons. The perfect fairytale. But now Blair wondered if there was such a thing. She and Chuck had hurt each other so many times on both sides. Were they too damaged to get a happily ever after, and if not, did they even deserve one?

**Gossip Girl: Tonight's the night! Anyone who's anyone is getting an invite, so you can be sure I'll be among the revelers at Insomniac. And just a few words of advice for my fellow attendees: when you do decide to finally go to sleep, make sure it's with someone you won't mind **_**everyone**_** knowing about. You know you love me.**

A few hours later, Dan Humphrey was preparing to enter Insomniac, feeling completely ridiculous but oddly excited at the prospect. His skinny necktie felt a little too prim and proper for the occasion of a club opening, but the invitation had said that it was a formal event. Earlier that day, he had informed Vanessa that he wasn't ready to be in a relationship with her again, and it had not gone well to say the least.

_"You mean you're not ready to be in a relationship with me, because you're ready to be in one with Serena!"_

_ "Of course not!"_

_ "God, Dan, you must be delusional if you think that by now I can't tell when you're lying!"_

_ "I'm really sorry, Vanessa, I just –"_

_ "Used me? Let me believe that you wanted to be with me, just so you'd have someone to help you take care of Milo? And then, when you figured out that he wasn't actually your son, you decide – hey, now's a good time to go back to Serena like you always do when you're in a good place in your life?"_

_ "Vanessa, come on – "_

_ "I'm not done, Dan! As I was saying, you've decided to go back to Serena, and then when you guys end oh-so-tragically, like you inevitably do _every_ time, you'll come back to me, because you assume I'll be there waiting patiently for you."_

_ "Please, just let me – "_

_ "Explain? No, Dan, I'd rather not hear whatever lame excuse you're about to pull out of your ass. You know, I would have been okay if you'd said up front that you just wanted to be friends, but no, you couldn't do that, could you? Because you love _being_ loved too much to care about anyone else's feelings but yours. Well, you know what? It's time for me to start caring about my own feelings, because I've been putting yours in front of them for way too long."_

_ "Vanessa…"_

_ "I figured we'd come to a point where you didn't want me romantically anymore, not this soon, obviously, but eventually, it would come. And I threw myself at you anyway, because of the pesky little shred of hope I had that you would grow to love me as much as I love you. But I never in a million years did I think that we wouldn't even be friends anymore by the end of it."_

_ "Wait, you don't even want to be friends?"_

_ "No, Dan, I don't. Because we can't _just_ be friends without me pining over you while you thoughtlessly talk about Serena for hours on end. So I'm done, Dan. I can't do this anymore, and I don't think you should ask me to. I know you're pretty selfish, but that would be low, even for you."_

Dan winced at the memory, still fresh in his mind. Was he really selfish? Was he a bad friend, a bad person? He had looked at it as figuring out what (well, who) he really wanted, and that was Serena. He assumed that there would be collateral damage and that Vanessa would be pretty pissed, but he wasn't expecting a full-on rampage during which her eyes were practically shooting flames at him, incinerating him until all that was left was a pile of Dan Humphrey dust. But he couldn't let Vanessa's words bring him down tonight. Tonight, he was going to lay it all on the line with Serena, and he was confident that she would reciprocate his feelings. He and Serena had always held each other in their hearts, even when they were with other people. First loves could never completely be shaken, and this time, he wanted to do things right so that there would be no more regrets for either of them.

My head is on fire but my legs are fine  
Cause after all they are mine  
Lay your clothes down on the floor  
Close the door, hold the phone  
Show me how

No one's ever gonna stop us now  
Cause we are  
We are shining stars  
We are invincible  
We are who we are on our darkest day  
When we're miles away  
So we'll come  
We will find our way home

**Until next time – xoxo**


	10. What's A Man To Do

A/N: And I'm back! Sorry for the hiatus! I've been pretty engrossed in my other story, so I've sadly been neglecting this one...But I think this chapter gets the ball rolling for a lot more action and drama! Hope you enjoy, and remember to please review! P.S. - The song I used is called "What's A _Man_ To Do," but I think we all know whose POV it's about...

**Chapter 10: What's A Man To Do**

I'd be a liar if I told you  
That I didn't see it coming  
Be more of a liar if I said  
Hey I didn't want it to be something  
You deserve much better  
For the love that you have shared  
I know you won't believe it

- "What's A Man To Do" Usher

"Chuck?" Chuck didn't respond to Nate's call. Instead, he swirled his scotch around in his hand until the amber liquid looked like it had rings. He knew Nate would find him eventually. He was annoyingly persistent when he wanted to be. "Oh! There you are. Guess you didn't hear me." He was also incredibly oblivious and believed the best of everyone almost all of the time.

"Guess not." Chuck shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Welcome home, by the way. I'm sure you've already had more dumped on you today than the whole of your trip to London." He felt the bed shift as Nate sat down next to him.

"Not so much that I don't want to hear about _your_ problems."

"How do you know I have problems?"

"Well, you're drinking a glass of scotch alone in your bedroom in pajamas when you're supposed to be at the opening of a club you invested in."

"So now's when you choose to get observant." Nate grinned; Chuck glared. After a moment, Nate's smile slipped as he debated between bringing up Blair and delaying his night out or immediately forcing Chuck to get ready and think of anything _but_ her. "Why do you look like that?"

"This how my face looks, Chuck," Nate teased him, exaggerating his frown and furrowed brows.

"Make it stop," Chuck whined, smacking a pillow over Nate's head. It hit with a rewarding _thunk._

"Okay, okay." Nate's face morphed into one of playfulness, but it masked serious concern. "Let's talk about _your _face."

"What's wrong with my face?"

"Dude, you have five o'clock shadow. And your eyes are all… red and puffy. Also, you need to take a shower. Oh, and you smell a little bit."

"Don't hold back," Chuck muttered, running a hand through his hair. It was greasy. He _did_ need to shower.

Nate cast Chuck a sarcastic smile as he made his final inspection. "Yeah, I think that's it. Otherwise, you look fantastic, my friend."

"Thank you so very much, Nathaniel." Chuck snatched a towel off the rack in the bathroom and shut the door.

"How long are you going to be?" Nate called through the door. "We need to get there really soon! No ridiculous girly primping!"

"These things take time, Nathaniel," Chuck berated him just as loudly and twice as sardonically. "You may not mind looking like you just rolled out of bed, but I enjoy looking professional and classy."

"You sound like Blair," Nate mumbled to himself, picking a stray dark hair that was no doubt hers off of his dress shirt.

"What?" Chuck yelled. "Didn't catch that."

"Nothing, princess."

**Gossip Girl: It's nearly opening time, and neither our fair Queen B nor the dark King of The Empire has been sighted. After their not-so-private fallout last night, I can't say I blame them. There's only so much public humiliation royalty can stand. You know you love me.**

"Hello? Is anyone here?" Serena looked around the penthouse, poking her head in Chuck's bedroom when she didn't spot him on the couch or by the bar.

**Gossip Girl: C has finally made his appearance, arriving with a certain Golden Boy by his side. Welcome back, N. Miss me? ****You know you love me.**

"Basshole!" Serena screeched, borrowing one of Blair's favorite nicknames to use for Chuck. He was supposed to be going with _her_, but apparently texting to tell her the change in plans had been out of the question. She checked her phone in annoyance. Oh, wait. She did have an unread message from Chuck.

Chuck: Hey sis – sorry to tell you this so late, but Nate's back, and I'm going to go to the club with him. See you there?

Serena shook her head. Well, he _had_ told her quite late, but she supposed this misunderstanding was on her. Glancing at her phone one last time, she noticed another unopened text.

Dan: Hi Serena. I know you're probably really busy, but I was hoping you could maybe hang out with me at Insomniac tonight. I'm sure you're going, and to be honest, that's the main reason I am. You are the only person who can make me feel somewhat comfortable at these things… See you tonight?

Two nearly identical questions – "See you there?" and "See you tonight?" – that elicited two completely different emotions. Chuck's excited and pleased her. If his text was any indication, then he was in good spirits and would be fun to spend time with tonight, and Serena had been worried that he would be moping about Blair the entire time, feeling guilty that he was the reason she couldn't be there. Dan's, however, confused her and made her stomach churn. But she couldn't decide if that was because she was excited to seem him or because she was dreading it. She had seen the Gossip Girl blast about his breakup with Vanessa, and it seemed too soon for him to be coming back to her. Not that she would mind seeing Dan begging for her on his hands and knees. But she knew that it's not what his reaction would be. He would expect her to embrace and kiss him like it was what she had been waiting for all along, like he was the answer to her question. And while there was a time when she would have, all of the back and forth she and Dan had gone through over the years made her weary of the possibility. Was it possible to love someone and hate them at the same time? Or maybe it wasn't him she hated at all. Maybe she hated herself when she was with him.

And then there was Nate – sweet, caring, devoted Nate, who had been her friend for as long as she could remember. And she'd ruined it, blown it to pieces, like she did everything she cared about. She chided herself for thinking the words, because as they played on repeat in her head, they sounded exactly like Chuck in Paris.

_"I lost the only thing I cared about. They can have everything else."_

Without the people she cared about, Serena had nothing, unlike Chuck, who had hotels and a business. What did she have? Columbia? Like _that_ was going to last. If she was being honest with herself, she expected to last two years there at best. Ivy League schools just weren't her scene. But the real problem was that she had no career, no future planned out, no idea what she even wanted to do. She just wanted to freeze time, grab onto Blair, Chuck, Nate, and Dan and stay young and free with them forever. Her mother thought she was growing up, and she supposed she was, but that didn't mean she liked it. And she didn't feel grown up on the inside, not really. She was proving that now, with all her flip-flopping between Nate and Dan. Was she eternally cursed to love two people, to live with a heart divided between the pair? It was bound to split open eventually, and she was scared that by then she wouldn't have either of them left to stitch it back together.

**Gossip Girl: S is single and ready to mingle, glittering in her ****silver** Versace stunner. They say it takes two to tango, but I have a feeling S is up for a trio tonight. But will N and D agree that there's room for two in her heart? You know you love me.

"Serena?" Dan was nearly shouting into his phone and no doubt attracting various stares from the fellow partygoers. "Hello?"

"Dan! Dan, I'm here! Where are you?" Serena let out a giggle, and Dan realized she was drunk. The slurring of her words, the way she was laughing… He slid his hand up his forehead and rubbed his temples. Of all the nights…

"I'm in the back left corner of the club."

"Of course you are, Lonely Boy!" She giggled again. "Want some company?" Dan sighed. He did love Serena, but there were times when he wished that she would tone down the partying a little. Sure, standing in the corner was embarrassing, but so was getting smashed, dancing on tables (the video blast had already gone out), and saying and doing things you'll regret in the morning.

"Yeah, why not? I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with right now." And it was true. Even if Serena _was_ drunk.

"Okay! Be right there!" He heard a few muffled words and thought about hanging up, but then, he realized it was Chuck speaking and decided it was worth listening to when he heard his name brought up.

"You're going to hang out with Humphrey? Are you serious, Serena?" Dan grimaced. Clearly Chuck hadn't stopped despising him. The feeling was mutual, but still. Dan didn't enjoy being disliked by anyone, even if that "anyone" included Satan himself and his equally devilish female counterpart, Blair Waldorf. Despite Dan's sympathies toward Blair with the numerous betrayals by Chuck, he still didn't understand why Serena wanted to be friends with someone like her. He admired Serena's social butterfly abilities, the ease with which she could float through every kind of group in the social pyramid, but that didn't mean she needed to. He much preferred the Brooklyn soil the Blair Waldorfs of the world spat on to any land in the Upper East Side, and he wished that Serena agreed. But the Upper East Side was too deep in her blood for her to ever consider leaving that life behind completely.

"Yes, Chucky, I am, and I would 'preciate it if you'd just butt outta my business!" Oh, God. She was worse than he thought.

"No, Serena, I won't, and I'll tell you why. First of all, you're drunk out of your mind. Second, you told me earlier that you didn't know what to say to Dan, and then proceeded to do shots of tequila like you were on spring break in Cancun. And finally, Nate has been miserable all night and avoiding you like the plague, and even though he desperately wants to talk to you, he won't, because you owe it to him to apologize first."

"Chuck, you're such a buzz kill. Did you know that?"

"Well, one of us has to think straight. It was you in Paris, and now it's my turn."

Dan hung up his phone and took up rubbing his temples some more. What did Chuck mean when he said that Serena didn't know what to say to him? And what was going on between Serena and Nate? Did she even want Dan back?

"Dan!" Serena threw her arms around his neck and he was soon suffocating in a mess of tangled gold locks. "Chucky told me not to come over here, but I did anyway, 'cause I'm a bad girl." She laughed and released him.

"Serena, is there something I need to know about you and Nate?" Dan questioned her cautiously.

"Me and Nate? No." She shook her head vigorously.

"Okay, then." Dan was at a loss for words. He had a whole speech planned out, but it had been prepared for a more sober Serena. Maybe it would have worked for a tipsy Serena, but definitely not a drunk one. He hadn't ever figured out how to deal with her when she was like this; never having been a part of the party scene himself, he was largely inexperienced in the conduct of drunken revelers.

"Well, Dan? Aren't you going to take me home with you?"

"Wha – what?" Had he heard that right, or was he imagining things?

"To Brooklyn! You still live there, right?"

"Ye – yes." And now he had a stutter to go with her slur. Perfect.

"You still want me, don't ya?" She ran a tan hand down his suit jacket.

"Uh-huh."

"Then, let's go!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of Insomniac. He was too caught up to notice the two glowers coming from across the room as she did – a signature Bass glare that indicated hell was about to freeze over, and another, less common but still unsettling, look from a pair of blue eyes that were slowly hardening and darkening into sapphires.

**Gossip Girl: Looks like S has made her choice, and Lonely Boy won't be so lonely tonight. Poor N. Good thing he's never in short supply of girls ready to take him home. But can a full bed fill a heart just as easily? You know you love me.**

My heart is in two different places  
I got you in my life and I wanna do right  
But it's hard to let it go  
When my love has two different faces  
And I can't break ties cause they both look right

**Until next time – xoxo**


	11. Where You End

**Chapter 11: Where You End**

Thought I fell in love the other day  
With an old friend of mine  
I was running kisses  
Down every inch of the spine

We had the roof down  
The sun came shining in  
The black fact is  
That I was thinking of you

"Where You End" - Moby

Serena woke to the smell of black coffee and old socks, the sounds of beeping cars and a coffee grinder churning said coffee, and the sight of rumpled bed sheets in an all-too-familiar open loft.

"Oh no," she breathed, running her hands through her tangled blond hair before holding one up to inspect her breath. She winced at the revolting mix of alcohol and morning breath and realized that her head was pounding and the walls seemed to be spinning around her. Well, maybe it wasn't as bad as she thought. Maybe she hadn't slept with Dan and he just happened to bring her to his loft for a sleepover, because she was smashed and needed to be taken care of. Maybe…But then the horrible truth was revealed by the fact that the only thing she had covering her was a pinstriped sheet pathetically crumpled across half her chest. "Oh my God. I'm such an idiot."

"Serena? Did I hear your voice?" Dan called out to her from the kitchen, where he was no doubt going all-out on breakfast for her. What had she told him last night? She knew what they had done, but there was a chance she could pass it off as just sex if she hadn't said anything too ridiculous. But Dan's voice hadn't sounded affectionate or warm like it would have if she had said she loved him or wanted to be with him. It sounded distant, cold, the way it sounded every time he was disappointed and angry with her.

"Yeah, I'm up." She figured it was best to get her clothes on now rather than go into the impending fight naked. No clothing may be a good distracter for Dan, but having it was more advantageous. It was armor and protection, and it was likely that she would have to make a quick escape. She grabbed the dress that looked like a shimmery puddle of silver on the floor and slid it over her head before slipping into her pumps and heading into the kitchen.

"Already dressed to go, I see."

"Well, I didn't know if I was invited for breakfast." Serena shifted uncomfortably in her heels before straightening up to her full height so that she was taller than Dan. He may have the advantage of knowing what had happened last night, but at least this way she could appear somewhat confident and intimidating.

"I guess that was smart, because you're not." Dan gave her a resentful glower before returning to taking calculated sips of his coffee.

"Okay," Serena said in a low voice, not quite sure what she was supposed to say to that. Wow, thanks a lot? I don't want to stay anyway? What the hell happened last night? "I'm, um, kind of confused as to why you're mad at me. I don't really…remember anything that happened."

"Wait, you really don't remember anything? At all?" Now he looked even angrier. His thick, dark brows were nearly knotted together, and his jaw was clenched.

"Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I wasn't…feeling like myself last night, not thinking straight I mean."

"To be honest with you, Serena, I don't think I owe you an explanation. Feel free to leave."

"Dan," Serena pleaded, imploring him to offer her something, _anything_, with her signature widened blue eyes. "Please, just tell me what happened so I can fix it." Dan chuckled, and Serena shuddered at the lack of humor and jovialness in the sound.

"You can't just _fix_ it this time, Serena," he said, shaking his head condescendingly. "You ruined us last night, any chance we had. You can't take something like what you did back, the thing you said and the way you said it…" he trailed off, realizing he had given her more than he had intended to.

"What did I say, Dan?" she asked, latching on to the pain she heard in his voice and saw in the chocolate orbs of his eyes. Once again, she had hurt someone she cared about.

"Doesn't matter now, Serena. It's done. We're done." It was unlike Dan to speak in sentences that were so choppy, so to the point.

"Please…" Serena was at a loss for words. Apparently the words she'd said last night were enough to deplete her internal dictionary today.

"You know what? Fine. Last night, in the middle of _you know what_," Dan said indignantly, raising his eyebrows. He was always ridiculous in the way he avoided saying the word "sex" out loud. "You screamed out… my God, Serena, why do you do this to me?"

"I don't mean to," she murmured, feeling her eyes start to fill with tears. "What did I scream?"

"Nate's name." Dan's words came out in a rush and he avoided looking at her. But with his admission came the rediscovery of some of her lost memories, and she snatched hungrily at the pieces she could reach.

_ Nate standing by the bar the whole night, girls flittering by in throngs, but never lasting long._

_ Doing shot after shot to prepare herself to face him and ending up somewhere, with someone, safe and assured instead._

_ Her mind fuzzy and her vision blurry as the cars outside the taxi whooshed by._

_ Stumbling into the Brooklyn loft and tripping over the leg of a chair on the way to the bedroom._

_Dan's shirt being ripped off his shoulders._

_ Her mouth creating a wet path down his spine._

_ Her dress pooling around her feet after he unzipped it._

_ Their mouths fused together in a way that was so practiced, so familiar to both._

_ Her back pressed up against the wall and looking into a pair of brown eyes she wanted to be blue._

_ And a name that thrashed frantically against her lips to escape._

_ "Nate!"_

_ And then, blackness._

"I passed out, didn't I?" The question was out in a whisper before she could stop it.

"So you _do _remember, then," Dan spat out, still not looking at her.

"Bits of it," she admitted. "Dan, I'm so sorry. I was drunk and acting stupid, and you were unfortunately a casualty of that. But I swear I _never_ meant to go home with you last night."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better about this? That you wanted him all along and happened to end up in my bed by _accident_?"

"Yes! I mean, no! I mean, I just think you should know the _truth_. That I was drinking because I was too scared to talk to Nate sober, and I still chickened out. I've always felt safe with you, and I guess that's why I came on to you the way I did."

"Well, thanks a lot for the explanation, Serena." Dan shook his head at her again, his black curls flopping to the left and right. "I would appreciate it if you would go now. You have a golden boy to get to, don't you?" He slammed his ceramic coffee mug onto the counter and the liquid spilled over the sides, creating brown splashes on the smooth granite.

"Dan, please don't be like this."

"Be like _what? _Pissed off? Because there's nothing you can do to change that now, so _get out_!" Serena felt a tear slip down her cheek and she nodded in acceptance, walking through the double doors of the Brooklyn loft.

"I really am sorry."

...

Back in the Upper East Side, Chuck watched as Nate slowly worked his way to self-destruction. He had consumed nearly as much alcohol in the past 12 hours as Chuck had the past 24, and it was concerning to say the least. Nate currently had his eyes glued to Sportscenter and he would periodically throw tantrums when the highlights revealed that his favored team had lost. There were three broken beer bottles by the bar, thrown in fits of rage, and a fourth sailed over Chuck's head just as he began picking up the glass shards of the other three. Various other empty bottles and glasses were splayed throughout the penthouse, and while Chuck could understand drowning your pain in alcohol better than anyone, he didn't like seeing Nate doing it. Nate was supposed to be the strong one, the happy one to cheer Chuck up and make sure he didn't do anything too stupid in his drunkenness. As the fourth beer bottle landed with a _crack_ against the bar, Chuck decided it was time to take action, and he knew couldn't do it alone. He needed the one person he was supposed to be avoiding, the one person he _couldn't _have. But this was different – this was one of her best friends too, and if the situation was reversed and Serena was in trouble, then he would want her to call. He picked up his cell, but just as he was about to hit the one on his speed dial, he heard the chime of his ringtone and the name of the very person he was going to call lit up his screen.

"Blair?"

"Hey, I know I'm not supposed to be calling you right now, but – " He heard an ugly sob in the background and a soft shushing that he supposed to be Blair. "But Serena's a mess, and I need you to get some sense in her! She won't listen to anything I have to say, and every time I try to talk, she just cries louder!"

"What happened?" It seemed his imagined scenario had come true.

"Humphrey happened," he heard her growl. "Serena thinks she destroyed their relationship or something, and now she is completely depressed. I need reinforcements."

"So he broke up with her or something?"

"No, no." Chuck heard another loud sob and the Titanic theme song come through the line. _Near, far, wherever you are. _"Hold on," Blair mumbled, the words followed by the slam of a door and an exhausted sigh. "Something happened, and she won't tell me exactly what it was, but I know it's pretty bad and that it's her fault. And she keeps muttering that she can't fix it and she deserves to end up alone."

"I'm going to kill that Muppet head the next time I see him."

"Well, before you get yourself thrown in jail, would you mind stopping by? I don't know what else I can do."

"I was actually calling you to ask you to come help me save Nate from himself."

"God, and here I was hoping our friends _weren't _as screwed up as we are." Chuck laughed at her remark – the first real laugh he'd had in a while.

"Yeah, not likely. We don't exactly attract _normal _people." Blair chuckled at this, and he continued. "So, do you think you're up to taking on a very drunk and most likely high Nate Archibald?"

"You should know by now, Bass, that I am up to any challenge you can throw at me. Think _you're _up to a manically sobbing and emotionally distraught Serena van der Woodsen?"

"I think I can handle my own sister, Waldorf," Chuck replied, glad that even though they were on shaky ground, their banter was still amusing and relaxed, and it took little effort to ease through it.

"Care to make a wager?" Blair asked, the smirk evident in her sly tone.

"First one to get their charge out in the streets wins," suggested Chuck, already planning on picking up the blond and carrying her, kicking and screaming, into the elevator and out onto the street.

"No way!" Blair cut in. "You could just drag Serena out of the penthouse. I'm not strong enough to do that to Nate. No, it has to be more complex than that." He figured Blair would realize exactly what he was thinking, but it had been worth a shot.

"So – first one to get Nate or Serena to confront the other one?" he offered.

"I like it," Blair conceded, "And it'll help them too. They need to deal with their drama."

"That they do," Chuck sighed, peaking in on Nate, who was now smoking a joint and watching _The Hangover._

"What should the winner get?" Blair's anticipation and eagerness were clear, as was the confidence that _she _would be the one getting whatever prize they decided upon.

"You going to make me do all the work, Waldorf?" he challenged.

"Fine. The winner gets to pick where the four of us are going for winter break."

"Wait, what? We're going somewhere for winter break?" Chuck was utterly confused with this statement. Serena hadn't mentioned anything about a vacation, nor had Nate. And it would be a miracle if all four of them were still alive by Christmas. He was expecting Nate and Serena to tear each other apart any day now, and it wasn't like he and Blair's relationship was rock solid. He wasn't even sure how their relationship could be defined.

"Yes. I just decided. And Nate and Serena don't even need to be told about the bet; we'll just inform them where we're going, and they won't argue."

"And you're sure they'll agree to this?"

"Come on, Bass, who can resist _me_? When I want something, I get it."

"Fair enough," he agreed, remembering all the times he hadn't been able to say no to her endearing brown eyes and professional puppy dog face. "We have ourselves a deal."

"Fabulous!" she squeaked. "The Non-Judging Breakfast Club will be back together again!" Blair let out an excited giggle before sighing again at the sound of a hacking cough, loud sneeze, and pitiful cry all rolled into one. "Ugh, Serena is going to be the _death_ of me! Or you now, I suppose!"

"Nate's not any better," Chuck told her, sure that he had this one in the bag. The guilt card always worked with his stepsister, and it was quite obvious that she was in hell over whatever she had done last night.

"Well, I'd say wish me luck, but I don't need it. You, however, are going to need a _miracle_ to get through to Serena."

"I guess we'll see about that."

"I guess we will."

"Goodbye Blair."

"Goodbye Chuck." He hung up the phone and immediately grabbed his coat. He was fairly certain that he would win this bet, but if Blair's words were true, then he needed all the time he could get. Hopefully Serena's mistake with Humphrey the previous night was a mistake in her mind as well. It was now clear to Chuck that she and Nate needed each other, because while surely they were going through a bad patch in their relationship, with enough love, how could it not turn to good?

I slept in the sun the other day  
I thought I was fine  
Everything seemed perfect  
Until I had you on my mind

I tried to love you  
I did all that I could  
I wish that the bad now  
Would finally turned into good

If I could kiss you now  
I'd kiss you now again and again  
'Til I don't know where I begin  
And where you end

**Until next time - xoxo**


	12. Breathless

**Chapter 12: Breathless**

When you feel the world is crashing  
All around your feet  
Come running headlong into my arms  
Breathless  
I'll never judge you  
I can only love you  
Come now running headlong  
Into my arms  
Breathless

- "Breathless" Taylor Swift

Chuck was shrugging into his coat when he heard the unmistakable Blair walk – many light, distinct steps echoing through the sparse foyer.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, glaring at Serena as he reflected on the three hours of sobbing and whining he'd had to endure before getting her to agree to see Nate, three hours that resulted in him losing to Blair once again.

"I'm guessing that's Blair. I – I don't know where she went," Serena sputtered, wiping her eyes before her tears got the chance to drip onto her bright pink trench. She reached the open elevator and immediately took a few steps back, her eyes wide in the realization that Blair was not alone. "Blair," she began, greeting her best friend while never letting her gaze leave Nate's.

"Hello, Serena," Blair replied, walking into the penthouse she and Serena shared at a brisk pace, with her face masked into one of distant apathy. She may have just spent the past few hours with Nate, but under no circumstances would she take sides in this conflict. Serena and Nate were her best friends, and while it was true that Serena had made a major mistake, it wasn't as if Nate had been acting the mature adult either. The trip to London was for business, it was true, but before Serena's return he had been adamant in his desire to remain firmly planted in New York, and it was obvious to Blair that Nate had taken advantage of the opportunity to escape his lost love and the imminent drama that was set to follow their only confrontation since the breakup, the argument they'd had at a Fall Fashion Week party. Blair settled for standing in the middle of the foyer, with her arms folded tightly across her chest and her eyebrows raised in expectation. But her breath was quickly released in a huff as Serena and Nate both remained silent, Nate stony-faced and Serena's one of trepidation. "Serena," Blair pressed. "Aren't you going to greet your visitor?"

"Oh, oh right," said the object of Blair's address, shifting to stand up straighter and pull up her dangling limbs. "Hi, Nate," she all but whispered.

"Serena," Nate replied, offering a swift nod in her direction.

"I suppose I should bow out now," Blair stated, her voice calm as she appraised her friends' expressions. Nate's was still frosty, Serena's still anxious, but much warmer and perhaps even hopeful. "Chuck?" she said, lifting a single dark eyebrow in the direction of the man leaning against the railing of her stairway, his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets and his mouth set in a grim line. "Coming?"

"Guess so," he muttered darkly, still seething from the near victory being wrenched from his hands. Without another word, he fell into step behind Blair, following the click-clack of her stilettos across the black and white marble floor. Before entering the elevator, she tossed her head over her shoulder once more to bid her friends goodbye.

"See you two later," she said, looking first at Nate and then Serena, peering knowingly into their glimmering blue eyes.

"Bye," Nate mumbled, as Serena offered a simple wave in Blair's direction.

On the way down, Blair's face erupted into a wide grin.

"Another victory under my belt," she sighed, twirling a strand of brown hair around her finger. "It truly is good to be queen."

"Must you always rub it in my face?" Chuck sighed with an eye roll rivaling even the queen's.

"Of course! That's what makes them all the sweeter." She sent a saccharine smile in his direction as if reaffirming her statement. "But I am curious – where did you plan on going with us if you had won?"

"I don't believe I need to share that with you," he responded crossly.

"Never even thought about, did you?" she asked derisively. "I'd imagine you knew it was a loss as soon as you remembered that _I_ was your opponent."

"One woman cannot seriously be that conceited," commented Chuck, amusement returning to his caramel almond-shaped eyes, almost golden in the florescent light of the elevator as it rolled to a stop.

"I beg your pardon!" cried Blair in false ire, relishing in the return of her feisty, long-lost Queen B attitude.

"You heard me, Waldorf. Admittedly, it's one of the reasons why we always made such a good pair."

"Our conceitedness?" asked his counterpart as they waltzed, side-by-side, into the lobby of the Upper East Side apartment building and then onto the street, attracting no shortage of admiring looks as they went.

"Our confidence," Chuck corrected. "Though I suppose some could interpret it as being overly so."

"Well, I for one think we have every right to be confident," sniffed Blair, turning up her nose. "Not only do are we faced with no rivals in our powerful scheming skills, but also, we happen to be the best looking dynamic duo in the city."

"I believe I'm going to have to correct you a second time today," Chuck declared with a smirk. "Wrong twice in the span of a few minutes? So unlike you." Blair's eyebrows furrowed and she cast him a warning look, the unspoken words "this better be good," in her expression.

"And _what_ am I wrong about? Please, _do_ enlighten me."

"We're the best looking dynamic duo in the world," he said, causing her eyebrows to unravel and a genuine, sparking smile to light up her features. It was moments like this that Blair's beauty made his breath catch in his throat, and he was grateful that it was her turn to speak, since there was no chance he would be able to get any words out.

"I stand corrected." Her face then immediately became serious. "But don't get used to this, Bass! Remember, when in doubt – "

"Blair's always right, I remember," he finished with a chuckle.

"That I am." They continued on in comfortable silence until Chuck's phone rang, pulling them out of their thoughts.

"Chuck Bass," he answered, casting Blair a "don't you dare walk away" look before sauntering off to lean against the wall of a stone building. While he talked, she scrolled through her emails, flagging the ones from her minions to be dealt with later, and pulling up one from Hamilton House, the elite society she and Serena had been accepted into at Columbia. Though she was only a sophomore, Blair knew it wouldn't be long before she was the head of the club, coordinating all of its exclusive events and executing them with both style and class.

_Dear Miss Waldorf,_

_We are pleased to inform you that, upon your acceptance into Hamilton House, you have been selected as one of the few to assist in organizing our annual holiday party, set to take place the weekend before school is out for winter break. Though it is very early in the school year, this event takes much time and dedication, and it is imperative that it goes off without a hitch. We are confident that you would be a wonderful addition to our team and would bring many positive and creative ideas to the table. Please let us know as soon as possible whether you are interested in the position._

_Sincerely,_

_Hamilton House Board_

Blair squealed with glee as she read the email, and she immediately typed out a formal and possibly over polite reply in the affirmative. Her head was already spinning with ideas for venues, caterers, and music… She couldn't wait to get started, and Chuck was going to be the first person she told. He would no doubt give her the congratulatory speech she craved, not to mention, Chuck's knowledge and opinions on all things entertainment would help her cut down her millions of ideas to a handful of the absolute best. But when she looked over to where he was standing, his face was hardened in anger, and his scarlet scarf whipped around his face, reflective of his fury. It seemed now was not the time to share her recent success story. Blair and Chuck had decided long ago that the bad news would always take precedence over the good, because the good could never feel entirely satisfactory so long as the bad hung in the air, waiting for its turn to be shared. Chuck eventually punched the end button on his phone and slipped it into his pocket distractedly while Blair joined him, a plan to confront him in a roundabout way forming in her mind.

"Chuck?" she began hesitantly, before deciding it was best to just cut to the chase. "What is it?" she asked bluntly. "What's wrong?"

"Russell Thorpe," he spat, gritting his teeth. "That's what's wrong."

"Who is Russell Thorpe?"

"An old rival of my father's," Chuck explained, still fuming but realizing Blair was the best person to tell. She gave the best advice by far out of all his friends, the only advice he commonly took; plus, their relationship the previous year gave her a foundation of knowledge on Bass Industries. "He's come back to try to buy out the company, and Lilly thinks it's a good idea to sell. I think she's going to try to convince the board of that. That was one of the older members, one who was as close to Bart as anyone could get. He thought I should know."

"You're kidding," Blair breathed, shaking her head. "Lilly wanting to sell already? You practically just took the reins…" She trailed off and looked into his eyes so forcefully, he had to look back. "Chuck. We're not going to let this happen, okay? We're going to figure out how to convince Lilly how ridiculous she's being, and if that doesn't work, then we'll fight her on it. We'll fight Russell Thorpe on it. We'll fight anyone we need to on it." Chuck felt a rush of emotion at Blair's protective nature toward him, because while he had commonly witnessed her defensiveness and steadfast loyalty, he had never expected to gain it back after the events of the previous spring. He didn't deserve it, and yet here she was, willing to help him retain his company, the thing that had torn them apart in the first place.

"Blair, you don't have to do anything. This is my problem, and I need to fix it," he said gently. As much as he appreciated having Blair on his side, he didn't want her to feel obliged to assist him in his corporate struggles.

"Oh, shut up," she replied, rolling her eyes. "You can't fight this battle alone, and you know it. It just so happens that I'm a master general, and I'm _itching_ to get back on the battlefield."

"Blair," he protested again, despite already feeling himself giving in. He was weak when it came to Blair Waldorf.

"Chuck." She narrowed her eyes, challenging him to deny her once more.

"Thank you," said Chuck. "I'd be happy to have you as my lieutenant."

"_General_," Blair emphasized. "Also known as the _highest_ ranking military officer."

"Right, how could I be so stupid, General Waldorf?" he asked sarcastically, lightly smacking his forehead.

"I've been wondering that about you for a _long_ time now." Chuck grinned at her, grateful that she could always find ways to bring him back to a state of happiness even after disaster struck.

"I set that one up well, didn't I?"

"Like honey for a bee." She returned his smile, and they continued to walk, Chuck's limo completely forgotten as it continued to linger outside of Blair and Serena's.

Twenty minutes later, their cell phones went off simultaneously.

"Gossip Girl?" Blair asked, slower to retrieve her phone from her purse.

"Gossip Girl," Chuck confirmed. "And it looks like we're both in for a long night."

**Gossip Girl: What do two scorned ex-lovers and one drunken mistake equal? Three pictures of the ugly aftermath. You know you love me.**

Attached were three photos of Nate looking furious as he stormed onto the street, Serena on his heels. In the first of the trio, she too looked angry, but the other two revealed a more hysterical, pleading Serena, who was clearly crying.

"I don't think I _want_ to know what happened."

"But we'll both find out anyway," Chuck sighed.

"Call me tonight and we'll compare their versions of events?" Blair proposed.

"Deal. And Blair?" he called.

"Yes?"

"Where are we going this winter?" He didn't expect her to tell him, and she knew he didn't expect her to.

"Not telling, Bass, but nice try!" Sometimes, it seemed they knew each other too well.

I'm so glad to see you smiling  
So good to hear your laugh  
I think that you've found you even  
Missed yourself

**Until next time – xoxo**

A/N: Hope you liked the chapter! Thanks again to all who reviewed the previous one! I would love to see some suggestions for their trip destination, and any ideas about what you want to see in this fic will definitely be considered, because I literally have nothing planned out. I'm just making it up as I go along, so if there's something you'd like me to write about or include, please let me know!


	13. Stay on the Line

A/N: Here's a quick update for you guys! I'm literally dropping this and running to dinner! But before I go, I wonder - do you guys think Nate should forgive Serena, or is she too far gone to deserve it? And also suggestions for upcoming plot lines will definitely be considered, along with trip destinations. I'd love some feedback! Now, without further ado, here we go...

**Chapter 13: Stay on the Line**

I just want to reach right through the phone  
With my hands and hold you close to me  
So we can just pretend  
We'll stay here for the rest of our lives, yeah  
And we'll grow old, just holding each other  
So baby just hold

-"Stay on the Line" Jared Campbell

"Okay, tell me again, starting from the beginning, and this time let's try to make it coherent, yes?" Blair eyed Serena warily and handed over the second box of tissues, which she gratefully accepted. They were sitting on Serena's bed at Lilly's penthouse, because Serena had escaped the place she shared with Blair as soon as Nate made his exit. It seemed disaster always led Serena to the home she'd grown up in.

"Alright, well, it started out okay," she began listlessly, sniffling, but thankfully no longer shedding tears. "I asked him about his trip to London and he asked about Paris, and we were just talking like we used to, like everything was okay between us, and we could laugh and tell stories without all the drama, but…" She sniffled again, and Blair practically shoved the Kleenex up her nose.

"You know I despise that abhorrent sound," she muttered, before encouraging Serena to continue. "But then what happened?"

"He shouted that he couldn't do this anymore, so I asked what he meant by that, and he told me that he wasn't going to let me infect his life again, like I'm some kind of disease. And he said that he was still pissed about what happened with Dan last year, but that if what happened last night didn't happen, then maybe he could have forgiven me, but not now." Blair held Serena's hand as her blond friend's lip began to quiver. "He says I infect everything I touch, and the disease has been spreading in him for way too long, that the only way to heal is to cut me out completely. I love him, B, and knowing this is my fault makes it horrible. I love him, and all I've been to him is a malignant cancerous disease, corrupting him until he almost lost it." Serena finally broke off into a sob, and Blair wrapped her arms around her protectively.

"S, why did you look so angry in the first picture Gossip Girl sent?" she asked gingerly, her arms still encasing Serena.

"I – I got mad at first. I was in denial, I guess, and I yelled back, called him a coward for hiding in London and then for avoiding me. It was stupid, I know, but I just… I was angry and scared and just wasn't ready to be faced with the possibility of him leaving, so I picked a fight to try to get him to stay for a little longer."

"But you broke down when he started to get into the town car," Blair supplied, her tone the tender, gentle one she rarely used.

"Yes. I begged him not to go, but he did anyway." Serena's lugubrious voice was enough to make Blair agree to watch another one of her cliché movie choices (this time it was _Sleepless in Seattle_)and stomach the sight of her shoveling chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream down her throat.

"My God, Serena, what's happened to us? We've created the stereotypical tableau of every teenage romance movie ever," she observed, taking a swipe of the ice cream with her own silver spoon. Serena laughed at Blair's droll comment.

"Somebody should take a picture! It might be funny in later years," Serena replied, mouth full of frozen dessert. "I'll text my mom. She'd respond to a text faster than she'd respond to me actually talking to her anyway." Serena pulled out her phone, not noticing Blair's sudden apprehensive silence, oblivious to the thoughts that were racing through her head. Blair still couldn't quite believe that Lilly would go behind Chuck's back and attempt to sell the company, but until she got an explanation from Lilly herself, she would have to continue to act with refined, collected civility, and ignore her desire to ask what the hell was going on. She had promised to be Chuck's general, and one of the first rules of war was to let your opponent make the first move. That way, you could size them up and figure out how much it was going to take to squash them.

"Did you need something, girls?" Lilly poked her blond head in Serena's doorway, holding her phone out.

"Yes, take a picture of us!" Serena directed her mother, handing over her own cell phone for the purpose.

"Are you _sure_ you want to have this captured for all to see?" Lilly's eyes narrowed as she appraised the scene – the gallons of ice cream, the hideous pajamas, the DVD cases, and the messy hair and makeup-free faces of the two young women.

"Positive." Lilly then obliged, and Serena shot into snorts of laughter upon seeing it. "Oh, that's going to be a classic. I can already tell."

"Well, have a nice night, and let me know if you need anything else. Preferably through human communication," she added, raising her eyebrows and shaking her phone in Serena's direction. "Good night, Serena. Good night, Blair."

"Good night, Lilly," Blair said distantly. "Nice to see you again." Lilly looked a bit perplexed by Blair's uncomfortable, anomalous statements but refrained from commenting. Serena, however, did not.

"Nice to see you again?" she repeated when Lilly had left the room. "What was _that_? You were acting weird the whole time my mom was in here."

"It's nothing," Blair said, dodging the question. "I'm exhausted, and cold politeness is practically my autopilot."

"Okay, then," she accepted, pulling out another DVD. "How about we move on to _Pretty Woman_?"

"Seriously? You want to watch a movie about a prostitute?"

"It's a good movie, Blair! It's like a modern day Cinderella story!" Serena defended, upset that Blair was criticizing one of her favorite flicks.

"I'm sorry that I don't find black leather thigh highs appropriate or acceptable substitutes for glass slippers," Blair tossed back haughtily.

"Well, fine, what do _you_ want to watch?"

"How about something classic, like – "

"Audrey?" asked Serena, rolling her eyes.

"_No_," Blair snapped, "though you say it like watching one of the greatest actresses of all time is a chore. I was going to say, like an Alfred Hitchcock. How about _Rebecca_? I know you didn't read the book, but I'm sure you'll be able to follow along."

"It's not in black and white is it?" Serena groaned, flipping onto her stomach.

"Yes, it is, and it's for your own cultural edification!"

"So what you're saying is, it's for my own good?"

"Exactly," Blair seconded, nodding. "I'm going to shape you up into a woman so cultured, knowledgeable, and classy that Nate will wonder how he ever let his idiocy get ahead of his emotions."

"Really?" Serena squeaked, her tears returning to her wide blue eyes. "You mean it?"

"Yes, and the first rule is _no more crying_."

…

"So how did it go with Nate?" Blair whispered, gently shutting the door to Serena's bedroom, where a passed out Serena was softly snoring.

"It was – wait, why are you whispering?"

"We're at the van der Woodsen, well I guess _Humphrey_ penthouse now, and I don't want to wake anyone up."

"And did you… happen to see Lilly?"

"Briefly," Blair admitted, her voice still low. "We barely exchanged ten words."

"So you didn't ask her about anything?" Chuck continued, pressing her for details.

"Of course not," she berated him, raising her voice as she entered the living area. "I may be the commander of this army, but I still need to consult my subordinates about our tactics and plans." Chuck laughed softly in response.

"I'm flattered you think so highly of me."

"I didn't say that," she countered. "Remember, we're in battle mode now, and you have to take people's words for what they are. No added meaning, no extra interpretation. I said I want your opinion, not that I'm asking because I like you."

"Yes, General Waldorf."

"I like that title. General Waldorf."

"As do I, General Waldorf."

"We need to come up with a name for _you_, don't we?" she asked coquettishly. "Lieutenant is second in command, but Lieutenant Bass sounds funny."

"Hm, well what's the lowest? I think I'd enjoy having you whip me into shape, help me climb the ranks…" Blair chuckled.

"Oh, I _know_ you would. And it's private."

"Well then, General Waldorf, Private Bass is at your service. What's my first assignment?"

"Your first assignment is to tell me what is going on with our dear friend, Nathaniel Archibald. I want a full report, Private."

"Of course, General. The subject continuously ranted about his disastrous love life, complained that love is supposed to be simple, and detailed the events of the day before succumbing to the pulls of alcohol and expensive marijuana."

"What did he say happened with Serena?"

"He said that they were talking about their summers and then he started worrying that he was about to let her walk all over him once again, so he started yelling the most hurtful things he could think of, told her he was cutting her out of his life, and stormed off."

"Sounds nearly identical to what Serena told me," Blair said with a sigh. "Do you think they have any idea that we constantly talk about and comment on their personal lives without them present?"

"Not a chance, General Waldorf. They're not the sharpest knives in the drawer."

"But they are sharp enough to stab each other in the back if we can't devise a way to stop it from happening," Blair groused grouchily.

"Touché." When silence remained on the line, Chuck continued, realizing that Blair was seriously overcome with concern for her friends. "It seems we have a second mission in the works."

"You really think we can fix this?" she asked him weakly.

"I think my General better not doubt herself," he answered. "She can do anything she puts her mind to."

"Why thank you, Private Bass. I might just move you up to Corporal, because despite your obvious sycophancy, I _do _happen to enjoy flattery."

"It's not sycophancy if it's the truth," he drawled.

"And there you go again! I think I better hang up before I start to believe it."

"Wait, Blair?" he interjected before she had the chance.

"Yeah?"

"Could you just – " Chuck hesitated. "Could you just stay on the line?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Blair replied, obviously vacillating between outright rejection and acceptance.

"Please," he added. It was enough to end her wavering.

"Okay, but no more talking. I'm tired." The dead quiet that hit made her check her phone to make sure that _he _was still connected. It wasn't until she heard the nearly imperceptible _"Yes, General Waldorf," _that she knew that he was there and was able to fall peacefully to sleep.

I can feel your breath on me  
From miles away  
I've never felt a greater relief  
From anything  
And knowing you are here with me  
It's the greatest thing, it's the greatest thing

**Until next time – xoxo**


	14. Not Afraid

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews of the last chapter! No Chuck in this one, unfortunately, but hopefully you'll appreciate some classic Queen B bitching. I feel we were in short supply of that for the entirety of season 5, so I suppose I was subconsciously craving some, haha. Anyway, I think I'm going to start thanking you guys on here, just so you can feel special by receiving my gratitude in black and white.

So, thanks so very much: RauhlPrincess, kauraREX, livelovelaugh9704, and my two anon commentators! It's y'all that keep me going! And with that, let's begin...

**Chapter 14: Not Afraid**

You can try and read my lyrics off of this paper before I lay 'em  
But you won't take the sting out these words before I say 'em  
Cause ain't no way I'ma let you stop me from causing mayhem  
When I say I'ma do something I do it,  
I don't give a damn what you think

-"Not Afraid" Eminem

It had been one week, and neither Serena nor Nate had made a move. In fact, neither had been speaking much; their usually bubbly demeanors were all but fizzed out, their golden-hued skin pallid, their eyes an empty blue in their sockets. Blair and Chuck continued to observe clandestinely from the sidelines, noting the changes in demeanor of their two friends with no shortage of unease. Serena had taken to going to her Columbia classes in pajamas and tangled hair, and Nate stopped going altogether – abandoning the pair of courses he had signed up for to help him gain insight into the economic side of _The Spectator._

Blair in particular was on the edge of losing it. She had buried herself in plans for the Hamilton House holiday party, and as the other members witnessed her unmatched creativity, efficiency, and execution, they only proceeded to tack on additional tasks for the sophomore. Then there was schoolwork, which her professors continued to pile on, and she found herself needing to go to the library with far more frequency than her schedule allowed for. She attempted to cheer up Serena periodically throughout the week, taking her to lunch and on shopping trips, going to get their nails painted pearly pink, but to no avail, and when Serena began to turn down her invitations, preferring to lounge about in Lily's penthouse, Blair found herself even more concerned for her mental well-being. She was indefatigably avoiding Lily, their run-ins few and their conversations decidedly clipped, but it was become increasingly difficult to act unfazed in her presence. Chuck was digging deeper into the plans Lily had for the selling of Bass Industries, and his PI had observed her at a meeting with Thorpe a few days ago. He had been calling Blair nightly to go over his discoveries and subsequent counter moves, but despite their scheming abilities, the two were at a loss at how to turn their lousy draw into a winning hand. Chuck was frenetic; Blair was frenetic. _They_ were frenetic.

Currently, Blair was sitting at the library, her books stacked high and her thoughts stacked higher. Up they rose, to the ceiling, to the skyscrapers that caressed the clouds, the ones that carried the Bass name in particular.

"Hey Blair." The dreary but recognizable voice snapped her out of her reverie and she gazed with decided disgust at the man before her.

"Humphrey," she managed, tossing a lofty eyebrow in his direction.

"While normally I go out of my way to avoid you – "

"As I do you."

"Right," Dan agreed, pulling out a chair as he sat at Blair's table and folding his head into his arms. Blair could only look on, petrified and revolted, at the sight in front of her. "But, unfortunately, I need a study partner for my European literature class, and I know you're taking it, so I just thought – "

"Presumed, more likely," Blair spat. "Listen, Humphrey. Let me give you some insight." Dan refrained from rolling his eyes at that one; he hardly had the energy to lift his eyelids as Blair spoke. "As if your hair wasn't bad enough, or your clothes, or your" – she inhaled and wrinkled her dainty nose – "stench, or even your dumpster origins, it's your personality that really grates on my nerves. How _dare _you take advantage of my best friend? You knew she was drunk off her ass, and you didn't even care, because all you think about is yourself – not her and definitely not your best friend, Nate, or should I revise that to _former _best friend, because obviously you don't give two shits about him now." Dan was still silent; Blair cleaved through the quiet in the library with a continuation of her shrill eruption. "You're a judgmental, self-serving prick, and before you tell me to take a look at my actions, I'm going to clear something up for you. Yes, I'm a judgmental bitch, but I love my friends and my family, and I would do anything for them if they asked. I don't kick them when they're down; I give them my hand and I pick them up – drag them up if I have to. You? You're the one who shoves them onto the floor in the first place, and once they're there, you criticize them for falling." Finally Dan interjected, his flaming ire mirroring that of Blair's.

"I do _not _do that! I care about the people in my life too, Blair, and I resent you trying to manipulate my actions to create a completely unrealistic analysis of my character. What happened with Serena can hardly be classified as my fault; _she _came onto _me._"

"You know, for someone who thinks he's so profoundly intelligent, you really are dense."

"Excuse me?" Dan barked, attracting an angry glance from the only other student in the area.

"You are judgmental, yes, but it's your sheer lack of responsibility for your own actions, your complete absence of inner criticism, that makes you so insufferable."

"I can't believe you're seriously pinning this Serena business on me. _She _should be the one to apologize, and when she does, and _if_ she seems to be acting like her normal self, _then_ I'll consider forgiving her." Blair's eyes narrowed; her fingers clenched into fists; her teeth gritted against each other like a saw against wood.

"_You want to talk about European lit_?" she ground out. "Have you ever heard this one? 'He who dares not grasp the thorn / Should never crave the rose.' You can't even bear to be near Serena when she shows her thorny side, so how you could sit here and blame her for your actions while at the same time 'crave' her rose is beyond my comprehension. Now, do us both a favor for once and get the hell out of this library before I tear that fuzzy black hairpiece off of your overgrown head!"

"_Fine_. I thought after Chuck _sold you for a hotel _and left you might have recognized your own faults and wanted to change, but you really are the same old infuriating bitch, aren't you?"

"Crazy bitch, actually," Blair corrected him coldly. "And this bitch isn't going anywhere." Dan sucked in a breath and looked as if he might engage in another argument, but he seemed to decide against it at the last moment and let his diaphragm deflate in a whoosh of air. "Oh and Humphrey?" He reluctantly turned his head back. "As I've reminded your fellow Neanderthals at NYU, sandals are not shoes." She smiled sweetly and cracked open a thick textbook, her neatly printed notes marking her place. Dan Humphrey may be an exasperating waste of space, but at least he had provided her with an escape from her tedious bookwork. Now, it was back to the grind, and she had to make up for those precious wasted minutes…

...

Nate walked into work – well, perhaps sloshed into work would be more accurate, considering the downpour of rain outside, his puddle-soaked loafers and slacks, and his stooped posture – to a _Spectator _emergency. Seemingly overnight, they had lost some of their most lucrative and influential investors to a rival news site, and Nate was immediately bombarded with a frenzy of interns and the formidable figure of his grandfather, who was precariously eyeing the gaggle of young adults around him.

"Nate," he greeted his grandson, his piercing gaze unnerving the much younger man.

"Grandfather," Nate replied, grasping the hand before him and giving it a quick shake.

"I'm sure you've been made aware of _The Spectator_'s current vulnerability due to the loss of funding," said Grandfather, immediately delving into the crux of the issue and allowing no time for pleasantries.

"Yes, I was informed."

"And?" Nate was immediately confused by the prompt. And _what? _This was the part where his grandfather told him what to do, and he, regardless of his sentiments, did it. Sensing Nate's bewilderment, he continued. "And what do you plan to do about it, to convince everyone that _The Spectator _is planning on going to the top and staying there?"

"I – I haven't come up with an exact plan yet, but I – "

"Didn't think you would have to, did you?" Grandfather interrupted, not unkindly. "I know I've been a large part of this establishment thus far, but I think it's time that you learn how to patch up a sinking ship and get her sailing again."

"Really?" Nate asked. "You think I can do this?"

"You _do _have Vanderbilt blood flowing through your veins, don't you?" his grandfather asked, raising his eyebrows and allowing the lines on his forehead to grow deeper.

"Yeah, I do," answered Nate, nodding to himself. "I'll get this done. I'll figure something out – give _The Spectator _the edge it needs to separate it from the competition."

"I know you will." Grandfather gave him a slap on the back and left the newsroom, grabbing his umbrella and charcoal overcoat on the way out.

"Enough!" Nate roared to the still-frantic room after he left. "We don't have time to run around like chickens with our heads cut off!" His employees instantaneously looked to their superior, for the first time actually nervous about their boss' opinion of them. Until now, he had been easy, breezy, basically a casual friend rather than an authoritative figure, but it was clear that that would no longer be the case. "I want you all at your desks, formulating ideas about how to revamp _The Spectator. _We need a new web design, new columns, new features, a whole new _perspective. _It has to be young, fresh, and informed – that's our target audience now. I'll be at my own desk, coming up with ideas as well, and in twenty minutes, we'll come back here and I'll pick the ones we're going to use. Any questions?" The room was silent, and everyone shook their heads no. "I said, any questions?"

"No, sir," they answered obediently.

"Good," Nate replied shortly. He then entered his office, slamming the doors behind him. He did have an idea already in his brain. He knew it was good. He knew it would save _The Spectator. _But he also knew it may cost him his sanity. He needed the one person he was refusing to admit he needed, refusing to admit he wanted – Serena Cecilia van der Woodsen.

And I just can't keep living this way  
So starting today, I'm breaking out of this cage  
I'm standing up, I'ma face my demons  
I'm manning up, I'ma hold my ground  
I've had enough, now I'm so fed up  
Time to put my life back together right now

**Until next time – xoxo**


	15. New York City

A/N: So I just got back from the Jersey Shore, and let me tell you, it is no party when it rains. The. Whole. Time. But lucky for you all, I came back in a writing mood, and passing through Waldorf, Maryland on my drive back only helped serve up some inspiration!

A big Jersey fist bump to those who reviewed the last chapter: livelovelaugh9704 (also for letting me bug you about ideas haha), kauraREX, and my two fabulous anons! Come join the FF fam! And now, on to chapter 15...

**Chapter 15: New York City**

And by the hands of man  
It's a maze of bad habits  
Where the rabbit in the hat  
Is just a train in the fog  
Yeah, you came here with nothing  
And you're leaving with the same  
Sometimes the road that you were walking on  
Is going the wrong way

-"New York City" Among Savages

"Serena, I want you to try it again, okay? And this time make it convincing." Blair Cornelia Waldorf sat with her ankles crossed demurely, a cup of tea in her right hand, and a saucer perched delicately in her left.

"Okay, okay, just give me a second." The blond seated in front of her, however, was her perfect foil – one long, tanned leg slung over the other, both tea cup and saucer sitting in her lap, dangerously close to spilling on couture and a designer couch, and a demeanor not nearly as calm and collected as the brunette's. She untangled her legs and copied Blair's pose as best she could and remembered just in time to lift the fragile china and prevent a spattering of the chamomile. She let her sparkling eyes glaze over into a languid blue, and she took a sip of her tea in the way Blair had taught her. "Blair, darling, it's been too long. How _are _you?" Serena drawled, her voice syrupy but laced with a false amicability.

"Oh, I'm doing very well, Serena! It really has been too long, hasn't it?" Blair returned, her cerise lips turned up into a tight smile, the smile she'd perfected years ago and often plastered on throughout the years she'd dated Nate and sometimes still employed during her string of society events.

"It has. Now you _must _tell me about your latest beau. I hear he's _quite_ the prince!" Serena fluttered her eyelashes demurely, perhaps overkill, but at least she was trying.

"Ah, yes, it seems Gossip Girl can't let anything slip through her ugly claws, can she?" Blair muttered darkly, dropping her society-lady façade.

"Does this mean we're done for today, B?" Serena asked hopefully, already growing tired of the many lessons Blair was putting her through in order to present herself as a dignified and desirable member of the _elite_ of New York's elite.

"I guess so." Blair put down her saucer, and the cup soon landed with a _clink_.

"And will you be telling me about the return of the Monacan prince, or not?" Blair's face twisted into a grimace.

"I think not."

"Je vous en prie!"

"S, if your puppy dog eyes didn't work to convince me, what makes you think your badly pronounced French will suffice?" Blair uncrossed her ankles, shifted a bit in her pencil skirt, and crossed them again.

"Fine, I guess I'll just have to pull the 'I'm your best friend and best friends are supposed to tell each other everything' card."

"You pull that card far too often," Blair bit out, arms now looped together as tightly as her ankles. "Try something new, why don't you?"

"How about the 'I'm Chuck's sister, and though we're not technically blood, it's still my duty to tell him about things like this' card?" Serena volleyed, satisfied when Blair's frigidity thawed and her dark eyes grew wide and fiery.

"S, you wouldn't!"

"I would. You really want Chuck to find out that a real life prince from Monaco flew all the way here to bring you a _shoe_ from someone else? You're lucky all Gossip Girl put up was a blast that there was a prince in town and that she hasn't connected him to you."

"Yeah,_ so_ lucky that we're now having this conversation."

"B, come on. You know you're going to have to make a decision about whether or not to give this prince guy a chance, and I don't want to see you or Chuck get hurt by any of it. So either way, you need to tell him, because I know for a fact that he hasn't even _looked_ at another girl since you guys talked at the opera."

"I suppose I do," Blair relented with a sigh, adjusting the ivory headband that sat upon her chocolate curls. "Need to make a decision, I mean. It's just that Chuck and I have been so good together lately. It's supposed to be friendship and starting over, I know, but sometimes it feels like it's…" Blair struggled for an adequate word.

"More?" Serena supplied generously.

"Yes. Almost like old times, before everything got so complicated and messed up."

"B, you and Chuck have always been complicated and messed up," said Serena with a bright laugh. "It's what you do, and it was like that even before you got together." Blair gave a soft smile in return but didn't have the energy to laugh. It seemed her days continued to grow busier, and it was a wonder she was even alert enough to talk.

"You're right. I feel so conflicted, though, because I know a fairytale and a prince charming are what I've always wanted, but my life is so different from where I thought it would be. Hell, I thought I would be nearly engaged to Nate, if not already. And it's not just my life that's turned out differently; _I'm _different. I'm not the person I planned on being."

"You're better though," Serena said softly, tucking a curl behind Blair's ear. "You can't plan on who you're going to be. It doesn't work that way."

"Right again, S. I think this is a record." The two girls shared another grin. "But you know what's funny?" Blair continued.

"What, B?"

"There is one constant between my planned life and my actual one – you, as my best friend."

"Aw, B, are you going all soft on me?" Serena giggled, engulfing Blair in a hug.

"No, and I can assure you my punches will be quite hard if you don't get off me!"

"Oh my, I am _so _sorry, my queen," Serena amended mockingly, bowing her head as if in a curtsey. "But in all seriousness – what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Blair whined, running her hands through her hair in a way that was so _un-_Blair it made Serena all the more worried. "What should I do?" And that was what really sent Serena over the edge. It was only in severe crisis mode that Blair ever asked _her _for advice, but Serena was prepared to answer as honestly and thoughtfully as she could without provoking the wrath of Blair.

"I think you need to ask yourself whether you choosing to be with the prince would be because you're ready to move on or because you're afraid that if you don't try to now, you're in danger of getting sucked back into Chuck world. And you also need to consider the unspoken agreement you and Chuck made when you said you would find your way back to each other. _Was_ that an agreement, B?" Serena looked up; she had kept her eyes locked to the floor for the entirety of her speech, and she was surprised to see Blair seated Indian-style in the middle of the patch of carpet in front of her, her head cradled in her hand as her elbow rested on her thigh.

"_That_ was a promise." Blair met Serena's questioning gaze, knowing her eyes were dry and determined. "Why should I go after a prince when I already have a king who loves me, and who I – "

**Gossip Girl: While many of you were worried about the absence of C at his usual haunts, I can assure you that you have no need to be concerned about our favorite lothario losing his skill. It just so happens that he's into a different kind of working girl now – and this one has the last name Thorpe. Seems we have a new power couple in the UES. But when both parties think they're in charge, which will be the one paying, and which will be the one getting kicked out of bed in the morning? You know you love me.**

"B," Serena whispered, eyeing the blast along with the accompanying snapshot of Chuck with a mature looking, dark-haired girl draped over him at a dinner table, her hand on his jacket and her face merely inches from his.

"Not another word, S. This conversation never happened, and I will be calling Louis first thing tomorrow. Well, not first thing. I have class, and then I have to stop for a new outfit for the date we will no doubt have planned for the evening."

"Please, Blair, say _something…"_

"I was under the impression I just said a whole mouthful," Blair snapped, perturbed at Serena's inability to understand that she wanted to drop the subject completely.

"Oh please, B, you know those few sentences had about as much substance as the conversations on Keeping Up With the Kardashians," quipped Serena, not willing to let Blair let go.

"S, you love that show!"

"And don't try to change the subject, either!"

"Oh my God, what do you want me to say?" Blair yelled, "That I'm still in love with Chuck? That I feel completely betrayed, that even though we weren't technically together, I thought we had made a promise? Or maybe you want me to say that I can't decide if I would rather that Mother Chucker fall off one of his buildings or come over here and take me in his arms and tell me it was all a big mistake." Blair's voice had dramatically quieted by the end of her tangent, and she began to shake uncontrollably as Serena wrapped her up and rocked her back and forth on the soft, white carpet.

"I guess I can't cry over him again, S," spoke Blair into Serena's shirt. "Like Carrie with Big on Sex and the City. Maybe she was right, maybe we're only allotted a certain number of tears for each of the people we love, and it's taken a whole sea, but they're finally gone. That stupid Bass and his sea of tears," she murmured. "At least I can't drown in it anymore."

…

Three Hours Earlier

"Charles? What are you doing here?" Lily's papers were left on her desk as she rose with the appearance of her adopted son. The shock was apparent on her white face, seemingly worn with exhaustion, but still coldly beautiful.

"I thought we should talk. Admittedly, I considered taking you down, but I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you actually care about me enough to have a reason for what you're trying to do." Chuck didn't take another step toward her and chose to button his suit jacket rather than attempt to engage in any gracious gestures of civility.

"Well, that's very… generous of you," Lily said. "Please, sit. I don't like you standing there like some awkward, business stiff." She motioned to the set of armchairs by her desk and Chuck complied with her suggestion with only a hint of caution in his actions.

"Tell me what's going on, Lily." Chuck didn't want empty pleasantries or small talk or jokes; he wanted facts. Facts couldn't lie. Facts just were.

"After you left," she began timorously, "the company went south, and quickly. I suppose it was a twisted compliment in a way, that it had begun to rely so strongly on your presence and work that people didn't want a Bass industries without the Bass. We tried our best to salvage it, and I threw myself in full force, attempting to make the decisions I thought you would, but the longer you were gone, the worse things got." Chuck pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head in disbelief. He hadn't realized the extent of the consequences awaiting him upon his return to New York. "When you came back, I thought we would pull through, but we were already in too deep, and I didn't see another viable option but to sell and then buy it back when we found an opportunity to do so. Russell Thorpe has been courting me since your father passed, and when he heard of our struggles, he put a very solid offer on the table."

"But why did you meet with him behind my back?" Chuck asked in a mix between frustration and hurt. "Why didn't you tell me what's happening, and that everything I've built is about to come crumbling down?"

"Because I knew it would feel like this," said Lily, folding her hands together. "You were already going through so much that I thought it would be best for me to deal with it and face your anger later. I was trying to protect you."

"I don't feel protected," answered Chuck harshly.

"That's because I failed." Lily laughed, but it lacked all sense of mirth. "I'm so sorry, Charles, but I mean it when I claim that I was looking out for you. I thought I was doing the right thing, and while I see now the errors of my theory, I do still think selling to Thorpe is the best move for the company."

"So there's nothing we can do," Chuck said in understanding, torpor about him as he spoke, his lips scarcely moving and the rest of his body rigid.

"Not that I've figured out, but perhaps you'll find something. You are a Bass, after all."

"I don't deserve the name," deadpanned Chuck, still floating in inertia.

"The only way I can see you losing your claim on the Bass name is if you give up." Lily placed a hand on his charcoal Armani-clad arm. "Charles, this may not mean much coming from me, but I think your father believed in you, and now, you have others who believe in you. So don't give us a reason to stop."

"How can I get other people to believe in me when I don't even believe in myself?" he asked, finally turning his haunted eyes toward the warm, brown ones.

"Fake it 'til you make it is what I always say," Lily said affectionately, patting his forearm. "And who knows? You might just start to trust in it yourself."

"I know you think we should sell, but, Lily, I – "

"You're going to fight for the company. I wouldn't expect anything less from a Bass, nor from any son of mine." Despite his resentment at her before, Chuck couldn't help but feel a swell of fondness for Lily.

"I hope you won't get too upset if I decide to fight dirty," he said with a smirk.

"Whatever it takes, Charles. And I know by now that you only ever fight dirty." She laughed and retreated to her desk to pick up a file to give to Chuck. "Here is all the information we have on Thorpe, his company, and his offer."

"Did you run a background check on him?" he asked her. It would have been his first move.

"It didn't occur to me," admitted Lily, pushing back her light blond hair. "I've known him a long time, and he knew your father too. I assumed he could be trusted."

"No one can be trusted in business," Chuck retorted, regretfully rather than irritably. "And everyone has things they like to keep hidden in deep, dark, pass coded safes. I just have to find his, and that will get him off my back so I can deal with the shambles that Bass Industries has fallen into."

"What do you plan to do about that?"

"I have to make sure it's clear that I'm coming back full force, and then I'll get some promising projects up and running, very _public _projects that stock brokerscan see. What those will be yet, I'm not sure, but I know I have enough money saved to get a couple going while the company gets back on its feet."

"Sounds like a good plan," Lily commented, approval in her smile. "Now, I suppose I'll go ahead and cancel the meeting I was set to attend with Russell and his daughter."

"Don't cancel it," Chuck said, a new plan coming together in his mind. "You know what they say. Keep your friends close – "

"And your enemies closer," finished Lily. "Shall I let him know about the change in representatives for Bass Industries?"

"No, I think I'll give him an unpleasant surprise. And during dinner, I'll make sure the conversation is steered at him, about how he knew my father, his past, and his business. Do you know anything that could be useful about the daughter?"

"I'm not sure. All I know is she is extremely close with her father and fiercely loyal. She always puts her father and their work first. I think she's about twenty-four, and she graduated near the top of her class, so she must be intelligent. Cunning too, if what I've heard is correct, though she seems sweet upon first impression."

"Well the loyalty thing does throw a wrench in the one possibility I was thinking of," Chuck replied, scratching his chin. "I thought I could possibly entice her into jumping ship, a godsend if her relationship with Russell had been anything like mine with Bart. But maybe she has a looser tongue than her father, and with the right amount of alcohol…" He trailed off, his thoughts still continuing to thread through his brain in knots.

"These people are no ordinary victims of a scheme, Charles. They're not the band geeks from your days at Saint Jude's. Just be careful, okay?" Lily's brows were raised, implying that this was no request.

"Oh, Lily, aren't I _always_?"

Follow your dreams  
But beware of the illusions  
You won't feel the void in your heart  
With a bank statement and a car  
What is it worth, what is it worth  
Have you given up on freedom  
You spent your life earning the keys to set you free  
When you were free all along

**Until next time – xoxo**

P.S. That song was on Gossip Girl and I listened to it nonstop for like three weeks after it aired until I got sick of it. I do that with all my songs, but I'm on a Bloc Party fix right now, and I feel like "Signs" is the one exception to my rule. It never gets old, I tell you!


	16. New Beginning

A/N: Firstly - thank you to my awesome reviewers - merrimint, kauraREX, livelovelaugh9704, and RauhlPrincess! If I could hug you over the internet, I totally would!

Also, I'm just going to go ahead and tell you that I absolutely despise Raina. Hated her with Chuck, hated her with Nate. And I don't understand why she looked at least five years older than both of them, yet they acknowledged that she was the same age... Can you tell it bugged me? Anyhow, I am throwing her into the story despite my resentment (at least in here I can take creative liberties with her age), so I hope with that admission that you will trust me with this? Yes? Okay, then let's go...

**Chapter 16: New Beginning**

The pressure is building; I want to break away  
Motivation is lacking; the point starts to fade  
I look to the bottom still empty still the same  
I'm waiting for something to show me the way  
To the path that I should take; it's just too real to go ahead and fake  
-"New Beginning" Trapt

Chuck straightened his necktie, opting for a more mature look rather than his signature bowtie. He was young, yes, but he wanted to appear as intimidating as his callous, steely father had during his countless years of entrepreneurship, and a brightly colored bowtie just wasn't going to cut it. After one last look in the mirror, Chuck exited his limo and entered the small restaurant where Lily had planned to meet Russell and his daughter for dinner. Immediately spotting the father-daughter duo, clad in similar shades of gray – hers a dove gray sheath, his a slightly darker suit, he walked swiftly to the front of their table in a way that would be sure to attract their attention. Russell's obsidian eyes immediately found his, and Chuck knew that not only was he noticed, but also, he was recognized.

"Chuck Bass, such a pleasure to finally meet the late, great Bart Bass's son," he greeted, extending a hand. Chuck shook it politely but found himself wanting to snatch his hand away from the iron shackle that Russell's larger one created.

"I can assure you, Mr. Thorpe, the pleasure is all mine. It's not often I get to meet a real estate mogul as successful as you, after all."

"Well, I don't know about that. I heard about the project you did with Sebastian Lewis in Brazil last year, and he's been known as the Realtor of Rio for quite some time now."

"Yes, that deal was impressive, though you certainly had your struggles with the construction workers' strike," the younger Thorpe put in, inserting herself into the conversation.

"That we luckily resolved in record time," replied Chuck, shaking another hand that was cool and hard as metal to the touch.

"I'm – "

"Raina Thorpe," he said for her. "Your father isn't the only Thorpe known in the business world."

"Well, my father and I try as best we can to keep our names connected in all the business we conduct. Now, please sit." She gestured to the table, where a third chair was already placed. "Should we be expecting Lily as well?"

"Actually, Lily is unable to make it tonight. She offers her sincerest apologies."

"It happens," Russell said, swatting a hand in nonchalance that Chuck couldn't distinguish as genuine or false. The trio soon ordered drinks – white wine for Raina, vodka-tonic for Russell, and an unsurprising choice of scotch for Chuck. Chuck listened carefully as Russell launched into a series of anecdotes about his greatest achievements in the real estate industry of Chicago, while Raina nodded and smiled along, engrossed in every word that came out of her father's mouth, despite the likelihood that she had heard the stories many times over. Chuck didn't even have to try to keep the conversation flowing; he had scarcely spoken ten words throughout the entirety of the meal, but he realized that it was most likely a tactic by Russell to keep the discussion in safe harbors – preventing any voyages into the murky waters of his past with Bart and Bass Industries. Internally chastising himself for acting like a neophyte rather than the seasoned schemer, Chuck attempted to coax the ship out of its dock and into the ocean, where with any luck, a maelstrom would be waiting to bring Russell down to its dark, swirling depths.

"So, Russell, Lily mentioned you knew my father," Chuck began, treading lightly.

"Ah, yes. Your father and I were involved in lots of business together back in the days when I had hair," Russell said with a laugh that didn't reach his still glacial eyes.

"And why did you decide to make the move to Chicago?" asked Chuck, taking a drink of his scotch and observing the way Russell's face flickered with bitterness before settling back into impassiveness.

"I just grew tired of Manhattan," he answered in a way that indicated he wanted a subject change. Chuck wasn't going to let him off that easily.

"I didn't think it was possible to grow tired of New York City. It must have been more than that."

"Some of us need a change in scenery every once in a while," he remarked tersely. "And besides," he continued, generating an artificial, abnormal lightness to his tone. "It was getting awkward to have everyone commenting on my loss of hair." Raina burst into shouts of laughter; Chuck endeavored to give him a lackadaisical smirk.

"So why have you decided to come back now? Why Bass Industries?" Chuck dug.

"After years of running in the same circles with your father, I came to greatly respect his work, and I know that Bass Industries is an extremely desirable company to own because of what he accomplished," Russell stated stoically, his words seemingly computed. Chuck could imagine him typing them out on a keyboard and reciting them until he could deliver all of it emotionless and without a single syllable out of place. "I have decided that it provides a good opportunity to get reacquainted with New York and at the same time expand Thorpe Enterprises."

"And what do you plan to do with _my _company if you acquire it?"

"You have no need to worry about your company, Chuck; of that I can assure you. It will be in very good hands." Iron hands, Chuck thought. Cold, metallic, hard hands that squeezed the life out of the ones they held. Untrustworthy hands.

"Well, that is reassuring," he lied smoothly, because he was sure that Russell was hiding something, and it had to do with his real reason for leaving Manhattan. "I will certainly be considering your offer, Mr. Thorpe."

"With all due respect, Chuck," said Russell dryly. "I'm afraid you'll have to do more than just consider. You don't have any other options."

"Did Lily give you that impression?"

"Was she mistaken?"

"Yes, but not to worry, Mr. Thorpe. Your offer is on the table and is being given our utmost attention." Dark eyes met each other from across the table, one pair ice and the other fire.

"Thank you," Russell choked out, visibly agitated. "Now, Raina, I think it's time for us to head out. We have a big meeting tomorrow morning."

"Actually, Dad, I think I'll stay for a bit longer. I need one more glass of this wine." Russell looked at his daughter skeptically before catching onto a private smirk and nod that Chuck missed in his relentless examination of her father.

"Okay. See you bright and early, then?"

"Of course. Good night, Dad." She waved him off before flagging down a waiter and requesting refills for both her and Chuck. They drank in silence for a few minutes before Raina spoke.

"You know, you seem much older than you are. I can't believe you're only nineteen."

"Yes, well appearances can always be deceiving, can't they?" Chuck asked cryptically.

"But it's not just your looks. It's your demeanor too."

"And you think it's difficult to fake behavior? It's easier than faking looks."

"I guess you have a point," she said, raising an eyebrow and taking a long drink from her glass. "But you're missing mine."

"And what is yours?"

"That while I don't usually go for younger men, for you I'd make an exception." She grinned in a way that eerily reminded Chuck of the magenta Cheshire cat that had so disturbed him when he'd watched _Alice and Wonderland_ in school. He'd been close to sprinting away when a classmate had brought in his cat for show and tell the following week, and it was only Nate's reassuring looks that kept him planted in his seat. But in the case of Raina's bleach-white, toothy leer, he couldn't help but recoil a bit. "Something wrong?" she asked, a pout taking the place of her feline smile. "Don't tell me you've given up your infamous ways. The stories have spread all the way to The Windy City."

"Have you heard this one? I'm not one to mix business with pleasure. Sorry," he told her apathetically, implying that he was not at all sorry.

"So I'll make an exception to my rule, and you make one to yours." She was inching closer and closer, constricting Chuck's breathing in his discomfort, and he was suddenly in elementary school again, contemplating running far, far away from the cunning cat in front of him. Raina began toying with the lapels on his jacket, and it was then he drew the line.

"Raina," he snapped. "Stop. Now." At first, Raina appeared taken aback, but after a moment of silence during which she grasped his seriousness, she looked livid.

"What the _hell_, Chuck?"

"I told you my opinion, and you ignored it."

"Sorry for thinking you would change your mind," she sneered.

"In _five seconds_?" Chuck questioned her, aghast.

"It's only going to take _five seconds_ for me to get the hell out of here." She snatched her purse and jacket and kept true to her claim, not bothering to slip it on before storming out of the tiny restaurant. Chuck held back and continued to sit, letting his forehead hit the table in frustration. After a few deep breaths, he called the waiter back over and handed him two crisp hundred-dollar bills for a tip.

"I never thought I'd be saying this to a waiter, but I actually envy you. The world of big business doesn't live up to the hype." He slapped the stunned man's shoulder and took off in his limo, allowing himself to get swallowed by the blaring lights and sounds of the city.

…

Blair didn't let herself hope when she heard the dinging of the elevator. She couldn't allow it, because all it ever gave her was disappointment, and she'd had enough of that to last her the rest of her life. Well, she supposed she would be disappointed again eventually; no doubt her minions would mess up their duties, her mother would say something hurtful, her father would forget to call on a holiday, or Serena would give her a reason to get angry, but she was done with the big disappointments. And so she couldn't hope to see Chuck. Blair convinced herself of this as she went to speak to the occupant of the foyer, but she felt her gut wrench with a searing feeling of…what was it? Disappointment. And it was all because the man in her hall had blond hair in place of brown, cerulean eyes where burnt honey ones should have been.

"Nate, what are you doing here?" Blair asked, praying her voice wouldn't betray the (she might as well admit it) disappointment that it was he instead of his best friend standing in her penthouse.

"I, uh, thought I might see Serena."

"_Might_ see her?" She smirked as she echoed his words.

"I mean I want to see Serena. It's pretty important."

"_Pretty_ important?" Blair parroted.

"Enough, Blair, please! I've been walking circles around your lobby for an hour trying to build up the courage to come up here, and I would appreciate some sympathy," Nate whispered caustically.

"And I would _appreciate_ an apology," said Blair haughtily. "But we can't always get what we want."

"For _what_?" Nate moaned. "What did I do to you now?"

"Not to me, you idiot, to Serena!"

"Serena?"

"Yes, my best friend, Serena. Tall, blond, drop dead gorgeous, the girl who makes all the boys drool when she walks by…"

"Got it, thank you, Blair."

"No problem. So tell me – why do want to talk to S and what's your apology speech?"

"My apology speech?" he repeated confusedly.

"Yes! You have one, don't you?" He stayed silent. "Oh my God, Archibald, have I taught you nothing?" she squealed, slapping his arm.

"It's not like that, Blair. I'm here about business."

"What business?" Two voices said at once, one with brown, narrowed eyes and the other with wide, concerned ones. Blair immediately excused herself and went upstairs. Well, halfway up the stairs. She had no qualms about eavesdropping, even if these were her best friends.

"Nate, what business?" It was Serena.

"It's _The Spectator._ It's about to go under unless we can do a complete overhaul and attract enough readers to pull in new investors, and I need your help."

"I don't know anything about newspapers," Serena said, a bit perplexed.

"I know you don't."

"Then _what_ are you asking?" inquired Serena, still bemused and slightly incensed.

"You may not know a thing about newspapers or business, but you know about people. And you know a lot about the people I want to read _The Spectator, _people who know what it's like to be a part of the Upper East Side and those who crave a taste of it. Serena, I want you to have a column in the paper."

"You want me to write?"

"Yeah, a weekly column where you write about your life, whatever the upcoming fashions are, the galas you're attending, the clubs you're dying to go to, anything you want – a lifestyle blog I guess you could say."

"I still don't understand why," she said, her light brows furrowed.

"Because you're Serena van der Woodsen, It-Girl of Manhattan, the girl every girl wants to be and every guy wants."

"Every guy except you," mumbled Serena.

"Serena, please. I know that we're not exactly BFFLs right now, but –"

"Oh my God, did you just say BFFLs?" she jumped in, cackling hysterically.

"No!" Nate yelled in denial as Serena continued to snicker.

"Yes you did! You did!" The last of her chuckles died down and she sucked in a deep breath of air. "You know, Nate, as long as you promise to continue to use the embarrassing acronyms of pre-pubescent girls, I think I can agree to write this column for _The Spectator._"

"OMG!" shouted Nate, a genuine smile lighting his face. "This is going to be _so_ fetch!"

"That's from _Mean Girls,_" Serena laughed riotously, her eyes tearing at Nate's impersonation of a bratty tween. "But that's allowed too."

"Thank you, Serena, seriously. You just saved my ass."

"FFN?" she asked him, offering a hand.

"You have to give me a hint on that one," admitted Nate coyly.

"Friends for now," Serena explained as he took her hand. "If we're going to be coworkers, then it only makes sense that we get along, right?"

"Yes, you're right about that. I don't need any more drama at work than I already have."

"Perfect! This is going to be _so fetch_!"

Sitting on a painful marble staircase, a petite brunette smiled wistfully and for a moment, forgot her disappointment. But only for a moment.

What do I want? I have nothing to say  
Whatever it is I want it today  
Do we choose our own ground; do we choose to stay?  
Well I've seen too many throw it away

**Until next time – xoxo**

A/N 2: Oh and writing this made me miss Serenate so much. Bring them back, GG writers? Pretty please? I think N and S have dated enough guest stars to fill up the whole church when they get married...


	17. Taking Chances

A/N: Yes, this Celine Dion song is cheesy. Yes, I adore it and will be using it anyway. Also, upon uploading I realized that FF erased every single one of my returns, so I had to go through the whole thing and press enter a million times to get it legible and back to normal. The things I do for you all...

And for my fantastic reviewers kauraREX, livelovelaugh9704, nics, and Zara - I would press enter another million times!

P.S. I am going to the beach again this weekend (Virginia Beach this time) and I'm hoping the weather will be better and I'll come back chillaxed and ready to write! Until next time - you know how it goes ;) xoxo

**Chapter 17: Taking Chances**

Don't know much about your life.  
Don't know much about your world, but  
Don't want to be alone tonight,  
On this planet they call earth.  
You don't know about my past, and  
I don't have a future figured out.  
And maybe this is going too fast.  
And maybe it's not meant to last  
-"Taking Chances" Celine Dion

Blair giggled for the fourth time in ten minutes and hoped she wasn't overdoing it. She and Louis were at a museum, a sweet sentiment coming from him, considering a museum was where they had first crossed paths. He had sounded borderline euphoric when she had called that morning, and it made her feel relaxed enough to agree to the date at the Met. And while she wasn't usually one to meander within the reaches of tourists, it _was_ one of her favorite places, a place where she could reminisce about her days of dictatorship at Constance – the steps, the minions, the frozen yogurt, the blasts, the talks with Serena. Louis was busy comparing and contrasting it to the Louvre and Musee d'Orsay, and Blair feigned interest as he told her about his favorite painting – _Starry Night_. Was he serious? Everything that came out of his mouth was a boring platitude, and he practically oozed facileness; it was blaring off of his Gap button down – the pale blue polyester a ludicrous attempt by the prince at being "normal."

"Blair?" Even the way he said her name was grating on her nerves. _Bleh_, he said, like he had eaten something nauseating and her name was his repulsed interpolation. She could even picture him sticking out his tongue. "Are you listening?"

"Of course," she said sweetly, tucking her arm through the crook of his elbow. "Please, continue. He seemed to buy it and commenced a new topic of discussion, something about a party in honor of the visiting French ambassador and needing a date… Wait a deuxiéme. Blair hastily snapped to attention.

"…And so while I really don't want to go to this boring party," he was saying. _Like you can complain about boring,_ Blair thought, using all her strength to abstain from rolling her eyes. "I was hoping you could accompany me and make the night much more enjoyable. What do you say?"

"I say oui!" she squeaked. Now he was getting a little more interesting. "So where is the party?"

"I was told it was at a library."

"The New York Public Library?" exclaimed Blair, thrilled in spite of the less than desirable prospect of spending an entire evening with Louis. Then again, Gossip Girl would never miss an opportunity to report on an event that big, and it would mean all of Manhattan seeing her on the arm of a real prince. So what if he didn't ignite the organs in the northern _or_ southern parts of her anatomy? He _would_ ignite the jealousy of the girls at Columbia, not to mention assist in reaffirming her status as undisputed queen of New York's high society. It was enough to make up for his flaws, _more _than enough, Blair reasoned.

"Yes," he answered. "That's the place. Oh, I almost forgot! I have something for you."

"Like a present?" Blair asked, perking up at the idea that being with a prince would at least provide a prerequisite of fabulous gifts.

"Does it count as a present if I am giving you something that is already yours?" Blair could practically feel her eyes dropping degrees until they hit sub zero.

"I don't think so." But she glued another smile to her face to make up for the eyes.

"Well, I should return it to you anyway." He signaled to his security guard (also wearing Gap clothing, the khakis barely reaching the ankles of the nearly seven-foot tall frame), who brought over a rectangular box. Louis grinned widely as he opened it to reveal the shoe she had left him at the museum with the words that he could always come find her in New York.

"You brought me back my heel!" she cried, pleased with her own ability to set up such a romantic gesture.

"Did you think I would not?" he teased her.

"I had no idea whether you would," she said honestly. "It was a spontaneous decision to give it to you in the first place, and I figured the most I could lose out of it was a shoe."

"A very expensive shoe," Louis put in.

"But replaceable nevertheless." Blair reached out for the heel, but Louis picked it up before she could.

"You must allow me." He dropped to his knees and slipped off a single Jimmy Choo to replace it with the navy, gold-buckled Vivier. "This is how it went in the fairytale, is it not?"

"I thought you said in Paris that this wasn't a fairytale," Blair reminded him affably, shifting her weight to the Vivier side.

"With a woman as incredible as you, how could it not be? _Blair_," he stressed, taking her face in his hands. "This can be a fairytale _and_ still be real."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Louis. It's just that I don't know if I believe in fairytales at all anymore."

"Then this can be called whatever you want it to be," Louis laughed good-naturedly. "An epic, perhaps? I know finding you was my personal _Odyssey_." Blair let her eyes roll this time, but a beam accompanied them. Sure, Louis was a bit bland and his conversations tended to be peppered with chestnuts, hackneyed dictums, and equally dull stories, but he was sweet. He was caring. He was kind. And being with him was so easy – the tuning out when she felt like it, the compliments he gave, the way talking to her seemed to make him so happy, and mostly the fact that she could take her shoes off in the middle of a museum and not be embarrassed by it – that she decided that this was an epic journey she was willing to travel on.

…

Chuck's eyes turned a deep shade of umber when he saw the picture that Gossip Girl sent out of Blair getting her shoe put on by the visiting prince from Monaco. Was Blair the reason he was here in the first place? And was she giving him a reason to stay, perhaps even permanently? Well, if Chuck had anything to say about it, Prince Charming would be on the next flight back to Monaco.

Chuck knew Blair better than anyone, it was true, and therefore he knew that if he shared his opinion on the matter, she would just cling tighter to the prince and her blossoming dreams of life as true royalty. No, honesty was not going to work. The only possible way to bring her castle in the clouds down to earth would be to get her begging for gravity, and Chuck knew exactly how to do it.

"Raina?" he asked into the speaker of his cell. "About last night – I may have been too hasty. Care to accompany me to a gala for the French ambassador?"

…

Serena entered Nate's office with three bags on her arm – one was her purse, one held her laptop, and the third was plastic and covered with a CVS logo.

"What's that?" Nate asked, pointing at the third.

"Just you wait and see," Serena replied, twirling the bag around in her hand.

"Nothing is going to pop out of there, though, right?" Nate raised his eyebrows in worry, and Serena laughed at his trepidation.

"You never know. I may be hiding some clowns in here!" She said, laughing, as Nate grew horrified with the mention of one of his greatest fears.

"Not funny Serena! I will never LOL at any joke that involves clowns."

"But will you ROFL?" she questioned, quirking an eyebrow and continuing to laugh brightly. She opened the rustling bag and took out a plastic bowl, placing it on the center of Nate's desk.

"What's that?"

"It's what it _will _be that's important," she told him impishly. Next out of the bag came an abnormally large package of gummy worms, which she poured into the bright blue bowl. They were followed by an assortment of other snacks and candies – Doritos, Cheetos, Oreos, and Skittles among them – until the bowl was nearly overflowing.

"I'd be lying if I said that didn't look good." Nate eyed the rainbow, eye-popping mix of food and felt his stomach rumble.

"It's good _and _good for you," Serena joked, picking up a lime gummy worm and dangling it in front of her mouth. "Now dig in! We need fuel in order to work!"

"You're absolutely right," agreed Nate, his mouth already stuffed with Cheetos, the puffs leaving a speckled dusting of orange around his lips and on the collar of his shirt. "To _The Spectator_!" he toasted, raising a green gummy worm of his own.

"To _The Spectator_!" Serena declared, whacking her candy worm against Nate's.

"You know, Serena, I think this may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Nate, I couldn't agree more."

…

"Louis," Blair greeted her date, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Don't you look handsome?"

"And don't you look breathtaking?" he asked in return. "Here. These are for you." He handed her a bouquet of roses, long-stemmed _red _roses that reminded Blair of Valentine's Day and cheesy romance movies.

"Thank you. They're lovely," she said with a tight smile. "Dorota!" The polish maid scampered into the room and proceeded to curtsey copiously until Louis had to order her to stop.

"Your Highness," she said respectfully, still keeping her head bowed. "It an honor to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you as well, Dorota," said Louis. "Blair has told me many tales of your companionship."

"I – well – I," Dorota stuttered, stumbling over her words until Blair discreetly elbowed her side. "Well Miss Blair very big part of my life for very long time. I have many tales of her too."

"I would love to hear them sometime," the prince replied with an air of archness.

"I don't think so," Blair cut in before Dorota could respond in the positive, which she no doubt would if given the opportunity. "There are some things that need to be kept in the family, don't you agree Dorota?" she inquired pointedly.

"Yes, Miss Blair," confirmed Dorota, before whispering to the prince with a wink as Blair got her coat, "We talk another time."

…

When Chuck arrived at the party with Raina, it was already in full swing. There were society matrons milling about in the corners, their noses upturned and their mouths pursed, young men trying (and failing) to flirt with beautiful women, and couples dancing in the center of the room, where a floor was set up and a quartet was playing "Skater's Waltz." It was there that he spotted Blair – she was dancing gracefully with the prince, and they were being shot glances that strayed back and forth between admiration and jealousy.

"Let's dance."

"You know how to waltz?" Raina asked him dubiously, stifling a laugh.

"I grew up on the Upper East Side. I was shoved into the same dancing classes as everyone else my age," he explained with a shrug.

"Okay then." They joined the group of rotating couples and Chuck found himself only mildly dissatisfied with Raina's skill level. With the exception of the discomfort he experienced by her close proximity, she did everything right. It wasn't beautiful dancing, like the way it was with Blair, but it was accurate. As he twirled Raina, he felt a pair of eyes on his back and knew she was watching. Whether it was watching with pure curiosity or something more, he wouldn't know until he saw her face. He maneuvered his position in order to get her in his line of sight and soon viewed the mask of cool indifference she was putting on. Her eyes were vacant but for a modicum of aversion and defiance, and she met his head on, not rupturing their contact until Louis whispered something in her ear and she threw her head back in rapturous laughter. Chuck felt his stomach turn over. "Do you want to go get a drink?" Raina purred in his ear, breaking his focus.

"Do you mind getting one for both of us?" he asked, attempting to infuse politeness and amiability into his tone.

"Not at all."

"Great," Chuck breathed, relieved. "And make mine a – "

"A scotch, yeah I know." She flashed him one last grin prior to setting off toward the bar. Chuck knew he had only a short window of time before Raina returned, and before he got the chance reflect on what he was doing, he found himself in front of Blair and Louis.

"Excuse me, _Your Highness_, but would you mind if I borrowed Miss Waldorf for a dance?" he asked, the "your highness" a dangerously close to a sneer. Luckily, Louis was as thick as he seemed and ignored both the contempt in Chuck's voice and Blair's pleading eyes.

"Of course not," he said lightly. "As long as I get her back!"

"I promise," Chuck replied. It was only when Louis walked away that Chuck added under his breath only loud enough for Blair's ears, "That getting her back is not going to happen."

And I had my heart beaten down,  
But I always come back for more, yeah.  
There's nothing like love to pull you up,  
When you're laying down on the floor there.  
So talk to me, talk to me,  
Like lovers do.  
Yeah walk with me, walk with me,  
Like lovers do,  
Like lovers do.

What do you say to taking chances,  
What do you say to jumping off the edge?  
Never knowing if there's solid ground below  
Or hand to hold, or hell to pay,  
What do you say,  
What do you say?

**Until next time – xoxo **


	18. Honey and the Moon

A/N: Hello, lovely readers! I had a great time at the beach - thank you for your well wishes! I have to say, I think this was probably one of my favorite chapters to write, so I hope you like it too!

Thank you so very much: kauraREX, Avivush, BekaRoo, nics, Zara, and livelovelaugh9704 for your reviews of the last chapter! May you all be blessed with many sunny beach days in the near future! And now, here we go...

**Chapter 18: Honey and the Moon**

Don't know why I'm still afraid  
If you weren't real I would make you up now  
I wish that I could follow through  
I know that your love is true  
And deep  
As the sea  
-"Honey and the Moon" Joseph Arthur

Blair stared at him with wide eyes, not sure whether she would gain more success by taking the offensive or the defensive. Shelving both for now, she settled on indignant silence, counting on her eyes to convey what her mouth could not.

"Nothing to say to that, Waldorf?"

"Oh, I have _plenty _to say I assure you, but me being forced into this dance is enough torture without having to endure _speaking _to you as well." Chuck's eyes flashed with a modicum of confusion before shifting to an enchanting shade of burnt butterscotch.

"Well, I approve so long as your silence equates with concurrence to everything I say." Blair did not respond. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of goading her out of her muteness and inciting a round of barbed insults that would get the gossips whispering. "In that case, I'll talk, and you can just stand there and continue to look beautiful as you agree." Half of his mouth twisted up into a smirk. "Let's start with Marcus 2.0, and while I know that this one doesn't have a stepmother he's clandestinely banging, I'm sure he has some not-so-princely secrets. You probably won't be surprised to hear that I already have Mike digging them up as we - well as I - speak. But that's beside the point." Blair rolled her eyes, having had enough of Chuck, and deigned to break her internal vow of silence.

"Well, what's your point then, Bass?" she sighed.

"What's yours?"

"You think I don't belong with him, and you're trying to stop it," she said, answering her own question rather than his, and prodding him in the chest with a force backed by complacency.

"You think I don't belong to anyone," Chuck replied, satisfying both inquiries in one answer. "And I'm merely trying to prove you wrong. I've come a long way since Lily and Bart's wedding, and while I would love to continue reliving that conversation, I think it's about time we focused on the future rather than the past." Chuck signaled to the quartet of violinists, who abruptly stopped playing the current song and flipped through their sheets of music in a flurry of white. "Do me a favor?"

"What?" Blair asked distractedly, entranced by the movement of the musicians and the appearance of Coeur de Pirate, who was enthusiastically greeted with a round of applause and a few staggered whistles.

"Translate. My French is terrible."

"I guess that would be okay," she answered warily. She looked over Chuck's soldier as the violins started to play an extremely familiar melody, their notes swelling and falling and saturating the library in sound. Couer's voice suddenly cut through, and Blair took a breath.

_Des yeux qui font baiser les miens_

_Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche_

_Voilà le portrait sans retouche_

_De l'homme auquel j'appartiens_

"My eyes look down when he looks at me," she said, ironically avoiding Chuck's eyes as she spoke. "I only see his mouth when he laughs. This is the portrait as is, of the man I belong to."

_Quand il me prend dans ses bras_

_Il me parle tout bas_

_Je vois la vie en rose_

"When he takes me in his arms and speaks to me softly, I see life in rosy hues." Chuck tightened his hold around her waist, bringing her closer to him, and she instinctively brought her head to rest on his chest.

_Il me dit des mots d'amour_

_Ces mots de tous le jours_

_Et ca m'fait quelque chose_

_Il est entre dans mon coueur_

_Une part de bonheur_

_Dont je connais la cause_

"He tells me words of love," Blair whispered, mellifluously but with enough strength for Chuck to hear. "Everyday words, and it makes me feel. He came into my heart - a piece of happiness for which I know the cause."

_C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie_

_Il me l'a dit l'a jure pour la vie_

_Et des que je l'apercois_

_Alors je sens en moi mon couer qui bat_

"He is for me, I am for him, in this life." A tear rolled down her cheek, and she lifted her head a bit in order to see Chuck. He gazed at her with pools of unshed tears in his own eyes, and she continued in a throaty murmur. "He told me that - swore it for life. And as soon as I see him, I hear my heart beating."

_Des nuits d'amour ne plus en finir_

_Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place_

_De ennuis, des chagrins, des phrases_

_Heureux, heureux en mourir_

"Nights of love, never ending. Much joy, which takes over troubles, sadness, phrases. Happy, happy to die." Couer continued to sing, repeating the chorus as Blair returned her head to Chuck's chest and held him tighter than she ever had before, because she knew that as soon as she let go, it would have to be for good. They were both with other people now - he had Raina, and she had Louis, no matter what his imprudent, unfounded comment to Louis had meant. Perhaps things were supposed to be this way. What she and Chuck had was a great love - the kind movies and books were written about - but the love stories of Catherine and Heathcliff, Scarlett and Rhett, and Paolo and Francesca all ended in tragedy, with the lovers torn apart. And perhaps being happier than she had ever been in her life for a brief time wasn't worth the pain that would surely come in the end. The phrase _he is me, I am him_, _in this life_ was flowing from the veins in her heart up to her head, and while she knew it to be true, she wasn't sure that their joy would be enough to defeat the _troubles, sadness, phrases_ that they would be thrown. She looked up when she heard the moment of quiet followed by a fluid wave of clapping and immediately released her hold on Chuck to join in.

"What a wonderful surprise!" Louis enthused, returning to his date. "I did not know such a well known artist would be performing tonight!"

"Yes, wonderful," Blair replied, not entirely sure whether she meant it.

"I must go introduce myself, but I will be right back." Louis gave her a kiss on her cheek. "Do not stray far, ma chéri."

"Chuck, there you are," said another voice, which soon revealed its possessor to be Raina Thorpe. She was holding two glasses of scotch in her hands - one full, one nearly empty. "I didn't know where you went. I was worried you'd ditched."

"No, I was just - "

"Catching up with an old friend," Blair interceded. "Blair Waldorf."

"Raina Thorpe."

"Pleasure," said Blair coolly, taking Raina's hand. "So how long have you and Chuck been together?" she asked, wishing that she didn't have to know, wishing that she didn't care.

"Oh, we're keeping things very low-key, seeing where it goes. This is our first date, actually." She laughed and squeezed Chuck's arm. "And I believe you owe me another drink, considering I had to have this one alone."

"Lovely," Blair lied with a toothy fusion of a smile and a grimace.

"That's fine, but Blair, I really need to talk to you first. Now." Blair couldn't meet his eyes when she responded.

"I don't think I should spend another second away from Louis. He's my date, and I feel like I've barely been with him all night. Excuse me." She quickly began walking blindly in the _opposite_ direction she thought Louis had gone - she didn't want to be near Chuck, but it didn't increase her desire to be anywhere in the vicinity of the prince. She couldn't breathe; she needed fresh air. Blair raced out of the reading room and through the seemingly endless halls of the library until she reached the gray stone steps and could suck in comfortable breaths of the autumn air.

"That was _quite_ an exit." Blair jumped and looked at the stranger to her left. The woman's threadbare, black overcoat and olive pants were a strong contradiction to the erudite look to her wizened but still attractive face. She was most likely a derelict, yet there was something about her that made Blair think she hadn't always been, and the lights of the city created an almost supernal halo around her waves of shiny, silver hair. "From whom are you running, my dear girl?" she asked. Blair didn't think twice before replying.

"Myself."

…

Serena sat alone in her apartment, staring at a blank computer screen, figuring the frustration she was feeling must be how what Dan dealt with whenever he was suffering from a bad case of writer's block in the midst of writing his novel. Though her day with Nate had been a lot of fun and brought back memories of a simpler time in her life, she hadn't gotten a thing done. Her first blog post was supposed to be up in two days, and she didn't know where to begin. What had Nate told her, again? _Write about your life, whatever the upcoming fashions are, the galas you're attending, the clubs you're dying to go to, anything you want – a lifestyle blog I guess you could say… _The problem was, she hadn't done anything of interest the past couple days, and after the disastrous turn for the worse her love life had taken at Insomniac, the only club she would be going to was the country club at the Hamptons when she visited her grandmother later that month.

"God, I'm going to suck," she sighed, rubbing her eyes. She stirred her glass of water and contemplated all the things she could write about - Columbia, maybe? No, too boring. Her friends? Already taken by another blogger. Her romances? Though Gossip Girl had a loose hold on those too, she never really got the whole story, never got the complete truth. And what better way to vent about her feelings than through a blog? That's what most people did with them anyway, right? It could be like a personal diary, centered around love but filled with splashes of the events she would attend, the clothes she'd purchased at Bergdorf's and Barney's and Bendel's… A symbiosis of sorts between her own idea and the idea Nate had shared with her. She returned her fingers to the keyboard and began to type.

_ Many of you already think you know me. Yes, I added that 'think' in there on purpose, because while you may consider yourselves knowledgeable on the happenings in my life, that doesn't mean you know me. To be honest, I sometimes question whether I know myself. But I want to, I do. And I want you to know me too - the real me, not just the it-girl that's written about in gossip articles and the Life & Style section of the newspapers. I want to be known for more than that. And I think one of the biggest problems I've encountered in my life is that other people not only don't expect me to be more, but also they don't want me to be. I hope you'll give me the chance to try._

Serena nodded to herself, satisfied with the rough cut of the first section of her blog entry. She hadn't gotten to the love section yet, but it wasn't like she could immediately launch into her failures - not the best way to attract readers, with the exception of gossipmongers who would relish in the stories, and those were the exact opposite of the group she wanted. She wasn't planning on becoming another Gossip Girl. It wasn't her job to break scandal or ruin people's lives by displaying their secrets. She was just going to figure out the person she was and share it with everyone else - a journey to find life and love in Manhattan.

_But it's not just myself I'm looking for, strange as that may seem. Usually, when you want to 'find yourself' like people say, you're supposed to cut out distractions, and of course, boys are at the top of the list. But if I'm right, and I think I am, then it can only help me to be with someone. Because if he's really the right one, then he'll be my mirror - he'll reflect back at me without shielding any of my assets or my flaws. I'll see myself for what I truly am when I'm with him. This is a big city, so I'm sure I'll have to look into a few cracked ones first, but that's life, isn't it? You mess up until you get things right, and so long as I'm on the way to 'right,' I think I'll be okay. I'm ready for this journey; who else is up for the ride?_

_Happy trails for now!  
SVDW_

But right now  
Everything is turning blue,  
And right now  
The sun is trying to kill the moon,  
And right now  
I wish I could follow you  
To the shores  
Of freedom,  
Where no one lives

**Until next time - xoxo**


	19. Truth

A/N: Dear people that hate me when I do cliffhangers, please don't hate me! I love all of you readers, and I don't mean to torture you; it's just how I like ending chapters!

Extra love goes out to: kauraREX (I hope this CB scene doesn't disappoint you!), Dr. GG (Yay for no Louis and Raina in this one!), anabelle12 (More blog posts will come in later chapters :), Nics (Thanks! Glad you liked it!), and BekaRoo (Thank you - I hope you like this one just as much!)

And without further ramblings (for now...)

** Chapter 19: Truth**

It was the truth  
That fell from these lips  
It blinded us  
And then the darkness left

So I am yours now  
Respectfully  
I am yours now  
Truthfully

-"Truth" Bloc Party

"Nate, hey, it's me," Serena said into her phone, cradling it in her shoulder as she surfed the website of Saks Fifth Avenue. "I know it's late, but I'm done with my first blog post, and I'd really like you to read it."

"Is Blair home yet?" he asked to her surprise.

"No, why?"

"Chuck's not either, and I think he was planning something for her tonight. I don't know whether to be concerned or happy that neither of them are back," Nate said, sounding weary.

"Well, come over, and we can wait together. There's no use for us to sit up all night alone." If the possibility of staying up all night with Serena wasn't enticing enough, the next comment sealed the deal. "Plus, I have leftover gummy worms."

"I'll be right over."

"See you soon."

Minutes later, Nate entered the penthouse Blair and Serena shared, his hair in disarray but his suit miraculously unwrinkled. He abandoned his jacket and tie by the entryway, dropping them on the floor in a heap. Dorota would have had a fit had she been present, but she had already been sent home for the evening.

"Nate!" Serena greeted him, grinning. "That was fast. It was the prospect of the gummy worms that impelled your speed wasn't it?"

"You know me well," he said teasingly. "You were just part of the package deal."

"Well, maybe I should just keep these to myself then, if you don't want to hang out with me." She shook a full box of gummy worms in his face before pulling them back and plucking out a few for herself. She popped them - a red, a green, and an orange - unceremoniously into her mouth. "Mmm," she exaggerated, rubbing her stomach. "_So _good."

"Serena! Don't do this to me! You know gummy candy is my kryptonite!"

"Are you going to spend time with me?" Serena questioned him, eyebrows up.

"Yes," he answered automatically.

"And enjoy it?" she pushed.

"I always enjoy spending time with you," he said, no trace of sarcasm in his voice.

"In that case…" she passed him the box, but not before grabbing another handful. Nate proceeded to drop four, one after the other, into his mouth, and groaned in satisfaction. "Oh my God, it's like you're making love to them," Serena laughed. "Oh yeah," she moaned, licking the orange gummy in her possession, and replicating the noise Nate made when she chewed it.

"Hey, I did _not _sound like that," he interjected, silencing her sex noises.

"Pretty close." Serena shrugged. "No need to get embarrassed," she added. "It's nothing I haven't heard before, though I am slightly concerned that the same sound comes out of your mouth when you're eating gummy worms as when you're about to - "

"Okay, Serena, I got it," Nate interrupted again, pushing back his unkempt hair as flames rose to his cheeks.

"Seriously, Nate. We can talk about it. It happened. It's over. It doesn't need to be taboo," said Serena bluntly.

"I know. I guess it feels a little too soon."

"Nate," Serena said, gently placing a hand on his arm. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he replied gingerly.

"Is there any hope for us? You and me?"

"I don't know, Serena," he answered. "I don't want anyone else. I never have." The way he said it sounded sincere rather than accusatory, in spite of Serena's obvious trait to tunnel her vision toward whichever boy she was with before tiring of him in a short time. It was one of the wonders of Nate Archibald - his ability to be so accepting.

"I don't want anyone else, either, but I understand if you don't want to be with me right now. _I _don't want to be with me right now, but that's a little tough to accomplish," she said in a rush, followed by a breathy laugh full of nerves.

"I think what happened with _Dan_," Nate said, voice breaking on the name of his former best friend, "is still a little fresh, but you know how I feel, Serena. It's always been you." Serena smiled brighter than she had in a long time.

"And I think it was always going to _be _you."

"So what should we do?"

"I think I'm going to pull out my laptop," she answered, "and you're going to resume molesting gummy creatures." Nate laughed.

"So we're good, then? Friends?"

"You're my BFF," said Serena, cracking a smile. "But one day, you'll be my BF. Only one F," she emphasized. "That's enough for now."

"I guess that's enough for me, too," Nate responded seriously before returning her smile. "Now give me back the gummy worms!"

…

"I am an idiot. I am an idiot. I am an idiot." It was Chuck's self-inflicted chastisement, mantra, and battle cry all in one as he raced out of the doors of the New York Public Library. After Blair's rushed escape, he had stood, mute and motionless, for a few minutes deciding on what to say to Blair before realizing that in order to speak with her, he would actually need to be in her presence. "Blair!" he shouted, recognizing her silky, emerald dress and chocolate curls. He simultaneously released a breath in relief, causing the name to sound more like a breathy wheeze than a call. "Blair!" he tried again, and this time, she turned, albeit tentatively. It was obvious, even from a distance.

"What do you want, Chuck? My town car is waiting."

"And it will wait as long as you want. You're paying for it," he said, unwilling to ignore her flimsy excuse despite the fact that his situation with her was already quite precarious.

"And I'm not in the mood for arguing, either," she sighed.

"Neither am I," he answered honestly. "Blair, about that song - "

"I don't know what that was supposed to mean, you getting them to play that song," she cut him off, her voice somnolent as she stifled a yawn. "To be frank, I'm exhausted right now, and I'd rather talk about whatever it is tomorrow."

"But, Blair, please - "

"Chuck," she warned. "Tomorrow. I really am curious as to how you managed to get Couer to come on such short notice, so consider that your insurance that this conversation has a TBC footnote on the end of it."

"You know what?" he asked, his voice rising. "No."

"No?" she repeated, irate. "_No_?"

"I've had enough of this back and forth, Blair. We need to talk now, and if I have to steal that kid across the block's skateboard and follow your town car until you agree, then so be it." He glanced at the throng of preteen boys who were skating down the sidewalk, bound to get into trouble.

"God, Chuck, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass _all_ the time? Don't you ever get tired?" Blair threw back.

"Not often, which I believe you can attest to," he replied, raising his eyebrows.

"On the contrary, Bass, you were always the one to wear out first."

"Well, it's difficult to be considered tireless when being compared to an insatiable siren."

"And you would know about me being insatiable wouldn't you? In light of that you were never able to _satiate_ me," she said with a trademark, puckish smirk, and Chuck's eyes narrowed.

"Oh really?" he bit out.

"Really. Now, good night!" she told him quickly, moving toward the car.

"I don't think so, Waldorf." Chuck intercepted her before she reached it, tucking her arm in his and, despite her efforts (kicking, hitting, and scratching included), managed to drag her in the direction of Bryant Park.

"Let go of me, Bass!" Blair screeched, attempting one last shove.

"No."

"Is that your new favorite word?" she taunted, employing a new tactic - inciting his anger to the point where he was the one pushing _her _away. "_No_? Chuck, would you mind treating others with the empathy and respect expected from normal human beings? Hm," she said, pretending to ponder the question, and stroking her chin with her free hand. "No. No, I don't think he will!" Chuck pointed his face to the darkness, the moonlight painting a partially illuminated devilish grin, while obscuring the other half in shadows. "Oh, great. You think torture is funny now. Of course you do." Blair rolled her eyes as Chuck smiled wider.

"Only yours," he remarked. "It gets you feisty. And frisky, if I'm not mistaken."

"You _are_ mistaken!" she huffed. "And while I always expect insolence from you, I really don't appreciate it when I'm dating someone as respectable as Prince Louis." Chuck guided them to a park bench and pulled her down beside him.

"You don't like respectable," he rebuked her shortly.

"I liked it, no _loved _it, for sixteen years until you _corrupted _me."

"I wasn't the source of the corruption, only the stimulant," said Chuck. "Like Gossip Girl once said, no matter how long you try to be good, you can't keep a bad girl down."

"I didn't realize you were quoting Gossip Girl to prove your points now," she sneered, getting defensive against his (true, not that she would admit it) arguments.

"You're only getting snappy with me, because you know I'm right." Her face hardened of its own accord, and Chuck kept on. "Don't ever forget that I know you better than I know myself."

"How can I if you keep reminding me?" muttered Blair. Chuck didn't answer, so she posed a different question. "Can we get to the part of the talk where you say what you need to so that I can go home?" She even added a tense "please" for good measure.

"Only because you said please." He gave her one last smirk before letting his mouth form a taut, straight line. "Listen, Blair, like I said before - I can't do this anymore, this push and pull game we keep playing. Every time I think we're moving forward, suddenly we're farther back than where we started. I thought we were friends and it was going well, and now you're furious with me, and I don't even know what I did." He sighed, and Blair took the opportunity to jump in.

"So what are you saying is you don't want to be friends? And _really_?" she inquired, clearly fuming. "You're going to play innocent here?"

"When, in any of that, did I imply that I didn't want to be friends? And as for your other question, I will hold onto my innocence until you tell me what I'm supposedly guilty for."

"Oh I don't know, _Raina?_" she spat. "One night you call me and ask me to stay on the line for you, and the next day, Gossip Girl posts a picture of her draped over you like some kind of lap dog. Was I supposed to be all right with that?"

"_What_?" Chuck was bewildered. He hadn't checked Gossip Girl the past couple of days, having been far too absorbed in his work for Bass Industries. "What are you talking about?"

"God, you're getting good," she said callously. "Really, you should consider acting if Bass Industries ends up falling apart."

"Blair, I'm serious!" he shouted. "The only times Raina was anywhere close to me were the night I met with her and her father for dinner and she came on to me after he left and tonight when we danced. That's it."

"You mean that - "

"I mean that I shot her down, and I only invited her tonight because I knew she would say yes, and I didn't feel like scrounging around for a date. We're not together."

"I - I didn't know," Blair said, her voice softer. "I suppose I should have asked."

"Yes, you should have," agreed Chuck. "It's not the first time Gossip Girl has been wrong."

"And yet you were quoting her only moments ago," commented Blair, a trace of a smile on her lips.

"I said she's sometimes wrong, not always," he elucidated. "To be honest, I'm surprised she hasn't sent out a bout of blasts already tonight."

"You mean like pictures of us dancing?" Blair asked dispassionately.

"Yes." Blair instantaneously started laughing so hard, she had to clutch at her sides. "What? What is it?" Chuck queried, puzzled.

"You - you said yes," she choked out. Chuck began to snort in amusement as well, not so much because of the hilarity of the basis of Blair's laughter rather than the laughter itself.

"Yes, I did," he said, just to indulge her.

"And again!" she cried with a hoot, the sound echoing in the seemingly deserted park. "Okay," she said at last, after the mirth died on her lips and their ruby color was compressed into a single stripe of red. "Keep going. Explain the song next."

"Since I know you were interested in Couer, I'll explain that first. I actually can't take credit for getting her to New York. She was already coming, _but _I did convince her to sing that song, as well as get the quartet to learn it in just a few hours."

"How much did it cost you?"

"All I'll say is I would have paid much more than I did. That song - it's us Blair. And I think the additional bonus that Audrey sang it can't be overlooked."

"You remember that?" she asked, dubious.

"Of course. _Sabrina _is one of your favorites," he answered, just as incredulous. "I remember everything you've ever told me."

"I - I don't know what to say," admitted Blair timidly.

"That's a first." She swatted Chuck's arm. "Ow! What was that?"

"I lost the ability of my lips not my appendages," she quipped, sobering swiftly. "And it was because I'm not sure I understand. Chuck, why did you have it performed?"

"You know why, Blair. 'He is for me, I am for him, in this life?' Come on, I think it's pretty obvious."

"I want you to say it regardless," she said, voice quieter still and countenance chary. The autumn wind whipped by them, and goose bumps rose on the surface of Blair's skin. The leaves of the trees danced, causing a few - glowing soft shades of red and gold in the moonlit night - to twirl to the ground. Chuck tipped her chin up to his face then held his hands on her chilled arms - their eyes met.

"Blair, _I love you_."

Our kind is hard to find  
And if it will be  
It will be with you

I am yours now  
Respectfully  
I am yours now  
Truthfully

**Until next time - xoxo**

A/N: Don't you guys just love it when I tack on more stuff at the bottom? I felt I should add (well, wanted to add, hehe) that I am going to see Bloc Party (one of my favorites) in concert in September! And how is this relevant, you may ask? Well, they are the featured song in this chapter! Relevant enough, right? ;) I highly recommend their new album and all their other stuff btw, and feel free to PM me if you want specific songs. Happy listening! :)


	20. I Won't Give Up

A/N: Duh duh duh duuhhhh... You guys didn't think the drama was over yet, did you? There's lots more to come. Speaking of lots, I can't believe this is the 20th chapter! So exciting! I have no idea how long this thing is going to go, but I hope you like this chapter!

Thank you so very much livelovelaugh9704 (your reviews always make me smile with their enthusiasm :), anabelle12 (thanks for the LOVE!), kauraREX (yes, CB are my main love too, haha), BekaRoo (thank you very much!), RauhlPrincess (SAME - but I just can't help using them!), and finally - city that never sleeps (so glad you liked it! cool username BTW) You guys may have me going another 20 chapters, haha!

Since summer is sadly over, I will be trying my best to stick to weekly updates! Hope you all have a very happy Labor Day! Now on to #20...

**Chapter 20: I Won't Give Up**

And when you're needing your space  
To do some navigating  
I'll be here patiently waiting  
To see what you find  
'Cause even the stars they burn  
Some even fall to the earth  
We've got a lot to learn  
God knows we're worth it  
No, I won't give up

-"I Won't Give Up" Jason Mraz

Blair's next breath got stuck in her throat - and her words along with them. This was what she had expected to hear, wasn't it? Then why did it sound so new, so completely raw, like it had the very first time he'd said the words to her by his limo over a year ago? Sometimes it felt it had been that long; other times it felt shorter, and still others, it seemed as if it had always been Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck, never one without the other, eternally two parts to a whole.

"Three words, eight letters," she found herself whispering.

"Are you mine yet?" Chuck murmured back, cradling her head in his hands, warm despite the cold.

"I have been for a long time," Blair acknowledged, studying his sharp jaw line, the bow in his lips, his wide nose, and finally the slanted, dark amber eyes - she wanted it, all of him, but unlike what she had led herself to believe prior to Chuck, love wasn't that simple.

"But you're not saying it back?" It was both an observation and a question. Blair nearly laughed at the absurdity of it, that he doubted it at all, though she had admittedly wanted to hear him say it just as desperately. It wasn't that she was hungry for love; it was that she was desperate, voracious, slowly wasting away in her need for _his _love.

"I love you too, Chuck." She didn't even have to say the next part. It was what happened when you knew someone as well as Chuck knew her. Not only did you finish each other's words, but also you often knew what the other person was going to say before it was said.

"But?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in anticipation.

"But I haven't found myself yet like we planned," confessed Blair. "I'm still as lost as I was before, just lost with a lot more written in my day planner." A corner of Chuck's mouth perked up.

"Blair, we can find ourselves together. I need you, and I don't want to have to be penciled into your planner like I am now," he replied. "I want to own the damn book." Blair laughed but was certain in her decision.

"You always bring forth such a persuasive argument - "

"You haven't seen persuasive yet," he interjected with a smirk.

"Chuck," whined Blair teasingly, "I'm trying to be serious, and you just _have_ to ruin it by making an asinine comment like you always do."

"I'm sorry." His tone was just as sarcastic, his expression devoid of any apology.

"You're not, but I forgive you. I am going to be serious now, though," Blair averred with an assertive lift of her chin. "Chuck Bass, I love you so much it consumes me." She gave him a slight, wobbly smile, which he returned. "So much, in fact, that if we were to get back together right now, I would throw my ambition out the window and resign myself to a life of being Chuck Bass's better half. And before you respond indignantly, I refuse to be disputed on the claim that I am your _better _half."

"Wasn't going to fight you on it."

"Well, good, because you would lose." They shared another grin, and Blair continued. "I still need some time to figure out what I want to do with my life, career-wise, and if I'm with you, then I'm going to want to spend every second I have free actually _being _with you - not at interviews or internships or committee meetings."

"I could get you a job at Bass Industries," Chuck suggested, "and then we would be together, and you would be working."

"Favoritism," she stated forlornly, shaking her head. "No, I need to do this on my own."

"But, Blair, I love you, and I really do need you." She was so close to letting go, but she used her last shred of self-preservation to hold her ground.

"And you'll have me," she assured him, beginning to walk with him through the park. "I promise that when you need me, I will be there every time. And I also promise, Private, that we will take down the Thorpes together, you and me."

"Don't talk about the mission in public, General!" he admonished her. "Someone might hear!"

"Who, the pigeons?" she speculated, rolling her eyes. "Though I do give you points for remembering my order."

"Why thank you, General. And you can start keeping your promise right now, because I need to go over a new business proposal for a hotel I'm thinking of buying. I could really use your advice," he said. "You always were my second-toughest critic."

"Third, actually," she corrected him seriously.

"Third?" wondered Chuck, racking his brain for a possible third person.

"The order was you, Bart, me. _You _were always your toughest critic." Chuck nodded in assent and was astonished for the millionth time at the insight Blair had on him.

"As you were yours," he added.

"Still am," she agreed. "Now tell me - what hotel were you thinking of purchasing?"

"Well, it's not exactly my usual location…" Chuck continued to describe his plans in detail and Blair listened, throwing in a question or remark here and there, until he was finished and they had circled back to their original spot.

"So I guess this is good night for real this time," Blair said.

"I guess so," confirmed Chuck. "Good night, Blair."

"Good night, Chuck. Oh and, Chuck?"

"I know, I know," he grumbled, shifting his eyes skyward. "Be ready bright and early tomorrow for a planning session." But he was grinning when he said it, and he was still smiling when he climbed into his limo, because while he and Blair weren't exactly together, she had told him that she loved him - so much it still consumed her. It had been over a year, so why did it sound so new, so completely raw, like it had the very first time she'd said the words to him? Sometimes it felt it had been that long; other times it felt shorter, and still others, it seemed as if it had always been Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck, never one without the other, eternally two parts to a whole.

And riding home in his limo, Chuck felt more whole than he had in a long time.

…

The next two weeks seemed to fly by. Serena's blog post had been a huge hit, and web viewers were flocking to _The Spectator._ She was settling down to write her second, a steaming mug of tea in her hand and her laptop on her pillow, when her phone buzzed.

**Gossip Girl: Rumor has it that Lonely Boy has been getting some serious literary work done now that he's truly all by his lonesome. Hope your book is successful, D, because you'll be needing that commission to buy yourself some new friends. You know you love me.**

Serena cringed at the blast. Gossip Girl seemed to be especially cruel lately, and it wasn't exactly Dan's fault that he didn't have any friends at the moment. No Nate? His fault. No Vanessa? His fault. No Blair and Chuck? Didn't have them to begin with. But to not have her; well, that blame could be almost entirely placed on her. Serena's guilty conscious had been weighing on her for a while, and perhaps it would be worth it to make a friendly trip to Brooklyn - completely platonic, of course, and she would even clear it with Nate first. In fact, knowing Nate, he would probably want to come with her and attempt to make up with his former friend. Serena suddenly had her inspiration for the post.

_There are 26 letters in the alphabet, and out of all of them, there is only one that makes me shudder when I hear it - X. That's right - X, as in "ex." Ex-boyfriend, ex-best friend, ex-lover… Maybe it's because it tells you that everything that comes after it is over, has come to an end, and I don't like endings or goodbyes - never have, never will. But I wonder - does "ex" have to mean goodbye? Are the two synonymous and predestined, or is it really possible to defy fate and be a presence in an ex's life? It seems every time I've tried, feelings bubble back to the surface, so recently I've been living the motto of "if you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen." But if I'm really serious about this whole growing up and finding myself thing, who better to teach me what I want for the future than the ghosts of my past? And if I'm being honest, I miss some of my exes, as well as the long lost parts of myself that were tucked away along with them. I just hope this kitchen doesn't go up in flames._

_Fire it up!_

_SVDW_

…

"Dan?" Nate knocked on the door to the loft he used to feel so comfortable in and shifted his feet. "Dan?" he called again, pounding louder.

"I guess nobody's home," Serena said with a shrug.

"Well, we might as well wait, considering we're already here." Nate walked over to the fake potted plant that stood guard outside the entryway and picked up the well-worn silver key from the dirt. After unlocking the door, he and Serena went inside and plopped down on the couch, exhausted from their day at work and the anticipation of the meeting that was sure to start off as painfully awkward and riddled with tension.

"Hey, what's this?" inquired Serena, lifting up a thick stack of papers. "You don't think it's - "

"His manuscript." Nate leaned over her shoulder and studied the typed sheets. "I think it is."

"Would he despise us forever if we read it?"

"I think he already hates us, so we don't really have anything to lose," commented Nate rationally. For the next several hours, Serena and Nate passed the papers back and forth; Serena would read a page and hand it to Nate since she was the faster reader, and by eleven that night, they were done with the entire novel.

"I - I don't really know what to say, or even think," Serena divulged miserably, her head in her hands. "I'm Sabrina Von Sloneker."

"You're not," Nate argued. "Well, you are, but you're not really like that."

"You mean I'm not a flighty, self-absorbed, borderline alcoholic slut?" she asked with a scowl.

"I mean you're a caring, kind, giving, incredible person. And, hey, at least you got a character! Dan didn't even put me in it!"

"What do you mean? You were Derek," Serena informed him. "He was gay and younger than the rest of us, but he other than that, he was you."

"So he mixed me with Eric is what you're telling me?" Nate surmised wryly. "I don't know whether I feel better or worse knowing I got _half_ a character."

"It's not like you got it the worst," stated Serena. "Look at what happened to Chuck's character, Charlie Trout! He ended up committing suicide, and no one cared enough to find his body for days."

"That's true, but we both know it wouldn't be the case in real life. Also, what about Blair? I mean Clair," he amended. "That was unexpected, to say the least."

"It's actually kind of disturbing. Since when has Dan had feelings for Blair? It doesn't make any sense."

"I have no idea," Nate told her with a shake of his head. "But I know that he's been hanging around her for a couple weeks now, and it's been driving her nuts. She and Chuck have been trying to get Bass Industries stuff together, and Dan's been like a lost puppy treading on Blair's heels."

"Has she told him off yet?" Serena asked curiously.

"A few times, yeah. But Blair says it only makes him more determined. All they do is argue, but he even signed up for the same internship program at _W _that she's doing, and now she really can't get away from him."

"Weird."

"I know, right? And Chuck's pretty pissed about it," added Nate.

"I don't blame him," Serena declared. "If some girl started hanging on you 24/7, especially one I knew, I'd - " she abruptly stopped, realizing her blunder.

"You'd what?" Nate encouraged her with a megawatt grin.

"I'd kick her butt myself," laughed Serena. She wrapped her arms around Nate's neck and whispered, "I mean it, Archibald."

"Good. It's nice to know you'd fight for me," he answered before encircling her waist and pulling her towards him. He crushed his lips to hers and they rolled off the couch and onto the floor, tangling limbs and gasping for breath in between kisses. Only the sound of a voice broke them apart.

"What the hell is going on here?"

I won't give up on us  
Even if the skies get rough  
I'm giving you all my love  
I'm still looking up

**Until next time - xoxo**


	21. Seven Devils

A/N: A big "gracias" to all my reviewers: BekaRoo (thank you, I really appreciate it!), anabelle12 (yay! feel free to say it as often as you want ;), livelovelaugh9704 (I have a feeling I'll be getting a long PM about this one, lol), and kauraREX (sorry for keeping you from your HW, haha... but I hope it's worth it?)

¡Uds. son fantásticos! (I'm working on my Spanish here... It's a little rusty. :) But I DID do translations in my other fic all by myself. I was very pleased.)

I'm a little nervous about the reactions I'll get to this one, but I hope you like it! And this will sound weird at first, but you might see a parallel to The Dark Knight. Any Batman fans here? Now, without further ado...

**Chapter 21: Seven Devils**

Holy water cannot help you now  
A thousand armies couldn't keep me out  
I don't want your money  
I don't want your crown  
See I've come to burn  
Your kingdom down  
-"Seven Devils" Florence + The Machine

"How do you feel about burgundy?"

"What?" Chuck asked, looking up from the projected income graphs he was creating on his laptop to present to the Bass Industries board on Monday.

"Just, how do you feel about it?" Blair asked, propping her elbow on the table and placing her head in her hand.

"It's fine," Chuck answered with a laugh. "Why do you want to know?"

"I was thinking it might look nice in a master suite at your new hotel. I saw some bottle blond skank wearing a burgundy bandage dress at work today, and while obviously she looked terrible, the color _was _admittedly appealing," explained Blair, drumming her manicured nails on the wood. This week, they were a deep purple, a color fit for a queen, she'd told him.

"Sure, I trust your taste completely," said Chuck genuinely. "There isn't anyone more stylish than you."

"Except maybe you," Blair replied with a smirk and appreciative glance at his deep, forest green suit jacket.

"True. How do you feel about black?"

"Really? Black for a suite?" she asked, flabbergasted. "You can't be serious."

"Black for the hotel," Chuck announced, swiveling around his laptop to show her the completed graphs that indicated a serious projected profit margin for the new hotel.

"Very impressive," she complimented. "Black will do. And do you have your speech for the board all ready to go?"

"Yep," he said. "I'm going to finance it with my own money, but I'd still appreciate your approval and input, we'll make lots of money, and Thorpe soon won't be able to afford to buy us out. That's the gist of it at least."

"Speaking of Thorpe, have you spoken to him yet?" inquired Blair, a wrinkle settling between her brows. Not many people made her anxious, but Thorpe was one of the rare ones. He had been insisting that Chuck meet him at his office for a "man-to-man" discussion, and Blair didn't like the sound of it one bit.

"Not yet," Chuck admitted. "I'm avoiding it."

"I don't blame you," sighed Blair, tapping her fingers again. "I don't like him at all."

"Neither do I," seconded Chuck. "But it's going to happen eventually, so I guess it's better to get it over with."

"So tomorrow then?" suggested Blair, already handing him his phone. While Chuck went to make the phone call to Russell, she went back to her schoolwork, which was getting to be a real pain. Not only did she still have the Hamilton House party to plan, but also her classes were getting progressively more difficult as the semester went on, and "My not-boyfriend's multi-billion dollar company is going down, and he needs me to help save it" wasn't exactly an excuse she could use on her professors. She let her eyes scan the pages of her textbook, though she wasn't taking in any of it. Blair reached in her purse to take out her phone, deciding that it would only be for a few minutes, and then she would go back to work. When she checked her messages, she realized she had two. The first was from Serena and concerned a paper that was due for one of their classes, and the other was from Louis, with whom she had lunched, as _friends _only, a few times since the Ambassador's ball at the library. The first time she had accepted only out of guilt for leaving the party early without an explanation, but she soon found that his company was quite relaxing. He droned on about whatever tidbits or stories he thought she would enjoy, and she smiled and nodded and felt completely at peace. She was glad to have him as a friend, so she called him back and they set plans for another lunch the next day.

"Who was that?" asked Chuck, reentering the room.

"Oh, just Louis," she answered. Chuck still wasn't a fan of the prince, but he tolerated him and was convinced by Blair's many assurances that she had no romantic feelings for him.

"Where are you two going this time?"

"I don't know, actually. He didn't say." Blair shrugged her shoulders and picked up her heavy book, leafing through the pages until she found the one she was looking for. "Ugh, this is dreadfully boring," she complained, eyeing the excerpt from _Book VII _of Plato's _The Republic._

"What is it?" Chuck asked, sincerely interested as to what Blair was doing in school. Since he wasn't in college, it was nice to get to vicariously experience it through Blair without having to do any of the actual work.

"The cave," she said simply.

"Ah," said Chuck, nodding in understanding. "Socrates' famous cave allegory." Blair gave him a pained look and continued her attempt to absorb the information. "You know, in the realm of Western philosophy, there's Plato, and then there's commentary, so read up."

"Who said that?" asked Blair distractedly.

"Don't remember, but it's true." Chuck sat down next to her and offered her a drink that she graciously accepted. He sipped his own scotch and watched her read with her brows furrowed and a little moue on her face. Frankly, it was adorable. "Read it to me," he proposed upon hearing her little huff of frustration. "That way, you'll have to concentrate, and then we can talk about it together."

"I don't even know why I took Philosophy," she muttered. Nevertheless, she began reading. "But, whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally, either in public or private life must have his eye fixed…" She read on into the night, and they listened to "The Cave" by Mumford & Sons and watched _The Matrix_ (that was actually very entertaining for Chuck), after which Blair concluded that she must have a greater understanding of _Book VII _than the rest of her class combined.

…

_ "What the hell is going on here?"_

"Vanessa?" Serena asked, eyeing the girl's long, flowing maxi dress and frizzy, black hair. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Vanessa shot back. "What, you didn't have enough room to make-out in your penthouse or Chuck's hotel?"

"It's not what it looks like," Serena backtracked, climbing to her feet and pulling Nate up as well.

"Then what is it?"

"We were here to see Dan," Nate explained, "and then we saw his book on the table and started reading it."

"Then I got upset about my character, Nate comforted me, and it just sort of happened," Serena finished lamely.

"Don't get me wrong," said Vanessa. "I'm very happy about," she flailed her hands in circular motions toward Nate and Serena. "_This_, whatever it is."

"So you're here to get Dan back?" guessed Serena.

"No, no," replied the other girl, lifting up the hem of her dress and walking to the table, where the manuscript rested. "I'm here for this."

"What? Why?"

"Dan doesn't think he's ready to publish it, but I know better, so I'm going to do it for him."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," said Nate, treading lightly with Vanessa. He knew she could have a volatile temper on occasion.

"Why not?" She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes.

"Well, he would be hurt that you went behind his back," Serena said, taking over. "And maybe he really isn't ready."

"He'll thank me later!" shouted Vanessa, snatching up the pages and ignoring the advice of Nate and Serena. "You'll see!" With that, she ran out the door before either blond had time to react.

"Wow. That was…"

"Odd," said Nate.

"Yeah."

"So, uh…" Nate began, not sure how to approach the topic of "This, whatever it is" that Vanessa had so observantly pointed out. "About earlier."

"Want to make out some more?" Serena asked suddenly. "At my place though."

"Serena, I really think we should talk about - " Serena interrupted him with her lips, and his parted of their own accord. "Yeah, let's go," he mumbled, fumbling with the doorknob as they left the loft.

"Want to talk now?" she whispered in his ear as they wrapped around each other in the cab on the way back to the Upper East Side.

"Uh-uh," Nate answered, shaking his head and pulling her closer.

"But I was going to ask if you wanted to be my BF," she said even softer, her tongue tracing the outside of his earlobe after she spoke. "What do you say?"

"Uh-huh." Serena giggled at his answer.

"Is that a yes?" she asked, gripping the sides of his shirt collar even though she already knew the answer.

"Just shut up already, Serena." And she did.

…

The next day, Chuck was feeling proud of all of the work he and Blair had completed as he entered the building belonging to Russell Thorpe. The meeting had gone exceptionally well, even better than he'd dared to hope, and he couldn't wait to give her the good news. This appointment with Russell was just a small hiccup in his otherwise perfect day.

"Mr. Bass," Russell's secretary said with a smile. "You're ten minutes early."

"Which means I'm on time," Chuck said politely, taking a seat outside Thorpe's office.

"Mr. Thorpe will be with you shortly. And I'm going to have to take your cell while you're in there. It's a security issue, and he is very serious about it. You understand, don't you?"

"Of course, I understand completely." He handed over his cell, and precisely nine and a half minutes later, Chuck was called into Russell's office and told to sit down in the chair front of his desk as if he was some dlinquent being called in to the principal's office to get a talking to. He knew what that was like, and it felt like this.

"Listen, Chuck, I'm going to be honest with you here."

"I would appreciate that," answered Chuck, his standoffish attitude nearly unable to be concealed.

"There are things you should know before I buy off Bass Industries, because I'm of the opinion that you deserve to know the truth about who Bart Bass really was," said Russell coolly, pulling out a DVD case that made Chuck's insides squirm in discomfort, not that he would let Russell know.

"What is that? Some sex tape you have of him with a lady of the night?" he scoffed.

"Much worse," Russell responded, delighting in the way Chuck's eyes darkened in fear and fury. "See for yourself." He stuck the disc in his computer and clicked play, backing out of the room before Chuck could protest at being left alone in the office. But Chuck couldn't have protested; he watched, entranced, as a security tape began to roll. Bart Bass was arguing heatedly with a woman. After she entered the building they were standing outside of, Bart hurried away furiously, and the building erupted in flames. The tape continued to play, but the woman didn't make her reappearance like Chuck expected.

"What the hell?" he shouted as the screen went black, along with the lights in the office.

"How does it feel knowing your father is a murderer?" asked Russell over the intercom, his voice filling up the room.

"He would never do that," Chuck bellowed, pressing the intercom button as hard as he could, though it was difficult to see in the dark. "How dare you?"

"How dare I?" Russell gave an unsettling, sardonic laugh. "She was my wife, that's why! And it was Bart's fault that she died!"

"No," Chuck said, adamant that this wasn't possible. "No, you're lying."

"You saw the tape. Video doesn't lie."

"It was an accident, then," answered Chuck.

"An accident that he murdered Avery after she ended things with him?" Chuck was shocked into silence. "Yes, my young Bass, your father was having an affair with my wife. I was admittedly neglecting her and Raina, was too focused on my business, and she was lonely, but I realized my error and we were happy together again. Bart didn't like that, not one bit."

"No," Chuck repeated in a whisper, not even bothering to press the intercom.

"So he killed her!" Russell shouted. "He trapped my wife in that fire for revenge!"

"Why are you telling me this?" Chuck asked through the speaker. "Why do you want me to know?"

"Bart Bass is dead," said Russell cruelly. "But someone still has to pay. His company will be ripped apart piece by piece after I buy it, and you will soon learn what it's like to lose what you love most, when you're too late and there's nothing you can do to save it."

"You're destroying Bass Industries to ruin my name?"

"No, I'm destroying Bass Industries to ruin Bart's legacy. To ruin you, I've got something much more painful in mind, something that will feel like a knife to your heart twisting in a little deeper with every day that passes. And it'll never, ever come out no matter how hard you pull. You'll bleed to death before you do."

"What are you going to do?" Chuck asked, feeling horror start to set in.

"I'm going to be generous and give you a choice," said Russell smoothly. Chuck wished he could see his face, but then again, his voice was terrifying enough as it was. "Unlike me, you get to choose who you lose and who you keep, but no matter what happens, it will be your responsibility. It's like a psychological experiment, I guess you could say." He gave a demonic chuckle. "Now, how would you like to hear what's going to happen?"

"Tell me, Thorpe," demanded Chuck, his pulse racing.

"Think of the two people in the world you care for most," Russell said. "Close your eyes and picture their faces." Chuck didn't know why, but he did. He squeezed his eyes shut and saw his best friend laughing, his blue eyes twinkling, and the love of his life, giving him the secret smile she had just for him, her red lips turned up and her doe eyes emitting her warmth. "Now, Mr. Bass, imagine that you would never see one of them smile again, because you won't. You see, I've made an arrangement so that you have to choose the one that you're going to save and the one that is going to die. Your dear friend, Nathaniel, or that lovely young woman, Miss Blair Waldorf, is it?"

"Shut up!" Chuck screamed. "Just shut up! Don't say their names; you don't deserve to!"

"I can tell I've upset you," Russell's voice said, amused. "But I haven't told you the rest of the plan yet. Would you like to hear?"

"No!" His voice broke.

"Too bad. Because if you don't, you'll be stuck here unable to save either of them, and you'll have two people's blood on your hands rather than one."

"Fi - fine," whispered Chuck, not caring that he was crying and the tears were coming rather rapidly down his cheeks.

"I have two containers with me. One is filled with water, the other gasoline." Chuck sobbed, sinking down to the floor with the intercom on his lap. "You choose whose room is filled with water and whose is drenched with the gas. One will live by water, the other die by fire." Chuck heaved air, took gulps of it and still felt suffocated. He had no phone, no means of escaping the door that was unquestionably locked, and a leap from a building so tall it would kill him.

"I - I can't," he choked out. It was true. How could he choose between the pair that had been with him through everything, the people he would sacrifice himself for a thousand times over? Wait… "Let me die instead!" he shouted. "Please, kill me instead, and let them live."

"That's very admirable, Mr. Bass, that you would give up your life to save theirs, but the suffering of death lasts only a few minutes. The suffering of life is what I want to see in you - dying while you're still living."

"Please," Chuck begged. "Please."

"You don't have very long," Russell warned. "I need a decision by eleven-thirty tonight, which gives you about ten hours to choose. At midnight, you will arrive at the location of whomever you have chosen to save. Choose very wisely, Mr. Bass. You'll have to live with this the rest of your life."

Holy water cannot help you now  
See I've come to burn your kingdom down  
And no rivers and no lakes, can put the fire out  
I'm gonna raise the stakes; I'm gonna smoke you out

**Until next time - xoxo**


	22. The Healing

A/N: HELLO LOVELY READERS! It's 1 in the morning right now and I didn't proofread, but it's okay, because this is the longest chapter yet for FOWB, so yay! There are lots of twists and Young and Careless, I'm sorry to inform you that Russell does not get run over by a bus. But I haven't ruled it out for another time!

Extra love to: Young and Careless, nics (Not so much NS in this, but I'll have more of them in the next one), Grace (Omg I love Batman but this dilemma doesn't end in the same direction at all...), RauhlPrincess (I love when you say that, haha! And I'm seeing her too - Sept. 21st!), kauraREX (Do you really think I would do that? ;), livelovelaugh9704 (I hope you like the twists and they're surprising!), miracle-dreamer1234 (Omg is what I was going for ;), anabelle12 (Haha, you might have to do that again! This one is pretty crazy too!), merriment (I'm keeping up the intensity, haha!)

I really hope you guys like this one, because I think some parts will shock you... just a little bit. ;)

**Chapter 22: The Healing**

Calm down, let the world spin round

There ain't no other place to be

Take this lifeline

Skin tears

But the flesh will weave

Back together again

Only scars now

-"The Healing" Bloc Party

Nate hadn't seen it coming. He was leaving Serena's and walking down the street as if he didn't have a care in the world, which was both precise and accurate. He and Serena had spent an incredible night together, and he was feeling happier than he had in months. The sun always shone a little brighter when he and Serena were together, and today was no exception. There was a little bounce to his step, and he bobbed his head to the sounds created by a group of young men banging out various rhythms on buckets and trashcans. Nate tossed a few spare bills in the designated trashcan lid for contributions then continued to the next block, only pausing when he heard the sound of a woman scream. Turning around, he focused on the origin of the high-pitched shriek and began to sprint toward an alley that revealed a woman cowering against a brick wall while two large men, both foreign-looking and blond, were holding a knife and trying to pry a purse from her wrinkled hands.

"No, please!" she was whimpering, clutching her leather pocketbook with all her strength, the strain evident in her throbbing temples and white fingers. "You can't!"

"I think we can," said the taller of the two men, caressing the knife he held in his hand and sneering scathingly at the woman. His accent sounded Russian to Nate, but he couldn't be sure.

"Please, the money for my granddaughter's college fund is in this bag!"

"How touching," the other man said sarcastically, his accent much less defined than his partner's. "Vojtěch , I know you like to play with your prey, but we've got a lot to do today."

"Understood," Vojtěch answered. "Now, lady, we can do this easy way," he gestured to her purse. "Or hard way." He twisted the knife in his hands before gently placing the point over her heart.

"How about no way?" Nate stepped forward and crossed his arms together. He took out his phone. "I'm sure the police would be happy to pick up two more goons today." Vojtech laughed, but the stouter, more muscular blond stayed quiet. "I mean it," Nate warned, dialing numbers into his phone.

"Okay, then, hlupák," Vojtěch replied, narrowing his amused eyes. "Run along, babička, and keep purse close." He chuckled at his own joke as the woman thanked Nate profusely before scampering off.

"What did you just call me?" Nate fumed in spite of himself. He found it obnoxious enough when people used_ English _words he couldn't understand, but for them to be in another language entirely was just too much.

"He says you are a fool, Mr. Archibald," the shorter one spoke, a grim look on his face.

"A fool - wait how do you know my name?" The next second was a flash of motion as Nate felt Vojtěch pin his arms behind his back, forcing Nate to drop his cell, and the other man press a piece of cloth to his face.

"In Czech Republic, we say you a padavka," Vojtěch commented, the alcohol on his breath mixing with the sugary smell of the cloth. "My father, he always say to me, Vojtěch, let no one ever call you a padavka. A real man never lose a fight, even if he no know he a competitor."

"Enough," his cohort said. "Just shut up. He knows too much already." Nate had barely heard the words anyway. He was suddenly feeling queasy, and his mind was getting fuzzy. He felt overcome with a desire to shut his eyes, and he knew what was going on; it was whatever was on the cloth that was making him feel this way. The world was going to black, and while he didn't know what these thugs were going to do to him, he sent out a desperate plea to whoever might hear it. _Please, _he prayed. _Don't let today go down as the last time I ever saw Serena._

…

Blair had been in the elevator on her way to lunch when they took her. She knew something was off as soon as it stopped; living in the penthouse of her building had its perks, and a private elevator was one of them, so its progress being halted meant something was clearly amiss. At first she presumed it was mechanical issues, but when two staid-faced, blond men entered the suddenly cramped confinements of the elevator, she felt her heart quicken, and her mind discounted the possibility of technical difficulties. Before she could scream, they covered her nose and mouth with a damp cloth that she soon realized was coated in a colorless liquid, and it was making her mind hazy. Her eyes began to flutter, and her body was teetering off balance. The pair each took an elbow in their enormous arms to steady her while keeping the white cotton stuffed steadfastly to her nostrils and mouth. _Chloroform,_ she thought, the sweet scent vaguely familiar from a high school chemistry experiment. _CHCl__3__. Formerly utilized as an anesthetic especially during the 1800s, it was used on Queen Victoria during the birth of her last two children._ Blair became aware of the pathetic nature of the thoughts that could be her last. She could be killed, and she was thinking about science definitions? Spots were coming in and out of her line of vision, and she figured she may as well make her final coherent thought count. _Chuck, I love you._

…

Chuck didn't know whether it was a heavenly blessing or an unbearable burden that he was wearing a wristwatch. Sometimes he would be grateful for the little face of the clock, holding on to the seconds like a lifeline, the steady ticking keeping him sane, but then the minute hand would be the one to move, and he would feel his chest tighten in a fear unlike anything he had ever experienced. The first hour, all he had managed to do was lie curled up into the fetal position, ball his eyes out, and occasionally peek at his watch, a vision that Blair no doubt would have laughed hysterically at if it weren't so tragic. But she wasn't there to laugh, and that was what forced Chuck to sit up and attempt to think logically about the situation. Determined that succumbing to Russell's ultimatum was not an option, Chuck understood that the only possible way to save Blair and Nate would be escaping the building. He scanned the office, because while it was dark, there was still a fraction of light coming from the two small windows that Chuck now knew were too tight to climb out of. The building was too high regardless. The email made available to him from the laptop had seemed like a viable opportunity; that is until he checked the Internet connection and found it password protected. He sighed and kept up his search, pulling out drawers until he bumped into a low table against the right wall. A small, black printer was placed on top of it, its buttons glowing in the darkness of the room. He picked the laptop back up and noticed a small printer button in the corner of the screen. The plan came together immediately.

Fifteen minutes later, Chuck held a hundred sheets of paper in his hands. "CHUCK BASS TRAPPED IN THORPE BUILDING ON 49TH FLOOR," they read. "REWARD OF TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS TO RESCUER." Chuck unwound the locks on the windows and released the fluttering white sheets onto the busy streets below hoping the combined incentives of fame and money would be enough to bring him freedom. Who was he kidding? This was New York. Those were the reasons people came to New York in the first place.

He didn't have to wait long. He heard the shouting outside the office and pressed his ear to the door to try to discern what was being said. Preparing to make a quick exit, he grabbed the disc of the surveillance video and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

"You can't go in there!" Thorpe's secretary was screeching angrily.

"Too bad!" a woman's voice answered. He heard a crash followed by the lock clicking open. When the door opened, he spied the secretary in a heap of papers, knick-knacks, and office supplies on the floor, and a young blond stood in front of him, hands on her hips. "So when do I get my money?" she asked with a purse of her lips.

"Who are you?" Chuck responded hurriedly. He needed to get her name and then get out of there.

"Charlie," she answered. "Charlie Rhodes."

…

Blair was tied to a wooden chair in the middle of what appeared to be an apartment or hotel room. She couldn't tell. It seemed like she was alone, but again, she was uncertain. The ropes that bound her restricted the movement of her head, and all she could see was the span of a single wall and the shadows of the chair and other furniture behind her. _I'm like the slave from Book VII that left the Cave, saw the wonders of the sun, and then returned to the darkness,_ she imagined, assuming that an academic train of thought would be most successful in keeping her calm. _Going back to uncertain truth, a blindness in itself, tied up with only shadows to see. Will I ever know reality again?_ She shuddered as a chill ran through her body. Perhaps academics weren't as safe as she thought.

"Blair?" she knew that voice, but all she could see was a shadow of the figure of a man. She didn't trust it to be real yet. The gag in her mouth kept her from speaking, but she tried to make noise, hoping to draw him to her side. Her muffles must have been somewhat effective, because he was suddenly close to her, untying the knots and taking out her gag. "Are you all right? Tell me how you're feeling," he whispered, his eyes wide.

"Can we please go first?" she asked, wanting to escape this place, wherever and whatever it was.

"Of course." He picked her up and carried her, and she didn't have the strength or desire to protest. "I hope you're not mad at me," he said quietly.

"Mad?" she balked. "You just saved my life! How could I ever be mad?"

"You haven't asked me how I knew where to find you," he pointed out.

"Okay, how did you find me?"

"Let's wait until I know you're safe," he answered, carefully setting her down on the soft seat of the car.

"I'm safe with _you_," she said.

"I'm glad you think so," he said, smiling. "You're really strong, did you know that?"

"Yes," she replied simply with a nod. "And you're my hero."

"I don't know about that."

"Yes you are, Louis. And I'll owe you the rest of my life."

…

Chuck managed to get out of the Thorpe building, the Charlie person seemingly satisfied by the business card he gave her and assurances that he would contact her soon. The first thing he did was call Nate and Blair, but he was unsurprised that neither answered. He would have gone back to The Empire or The Palace, but he figured they would be the first places Thorpe would check. There was also Victrola, but his love of the place wasn't exactly uncommon knowledge. And Blair and Serena's… _Serena. _He had to make sure she, Lily, and Eric were safe. She picked up after the second ring.

"Serena?" he asked, breathless.

"Yeah?" she answered. "Why do you sound so weird?"

"I - I'm fine," Chuck lied, caught off guard by a perceptiveness that was rare in his sister. "Just do me a favor and go to The Palace."

"What? Why?" she asked, confused by his request.

"Serena, I really can't tell you at the moment, but believe me when I say I need you to go and stay with your mom and Eric. Don't leave the penthouse or open the door for anyone, got it? And block access to the elevator after you get there."

"Oh my God, Chuck, what is it? You're really scaring me."

"Just, please," he said, his voice low and dangerously close to a sob.

"O - Okay," she agreed, the pain coming across the line. "I'm leaving now."

"Good," he sighed. "I'll call later."

"Or sooner, if you need me," she added before hanging up.

Chuck turned his thoughts back to Blair and Nate and the disaster he had dragged them into. If things went horribly awry, Russell had been right about one thing - it _would _be his fault. The problem was, he had only a few ideas of where they could be, and since he knew about them, Russell would never risk putting Blair or Nate there. On the other hand, Russell had thought Chuck would be stuck in his office for the duration of the day, unable to breathe outside air, let alone rescue anyone. Making a decision, Chuck headed for the site of his new hotel project. If Russell really wanted to destroy Chuck's past, present, and future, that would be one of the best places to do it, and with all of the construction that had been taking place, a fire could easily be blamed on faulty wiring or some other excuse. Then it would be Chuck's seemingly deranged words against Russell's, and Thorpe had a reputation as a respectable, truthful businessman.

On the ride, Chuck took out the disc and slid it into the computer he had picked up before calling Arthur. There was more to this, and he knew it. It was why he'd used a favor from a computer whiz whose software company Chuck had paid to launch. In the seat beside him, the man adjusted his thick glasses and began working, pulling up garbled codes that Chuck couldn't begin to comprehend. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably closer to ten minutes, the man grinned in satisfaction.

"Not the challenge I was hoping for," he said, "but it would have taken you ages."

"Thanks a lot, Richie," Chuck answered. Arthur pulled over, and Richie stepped out of the limo to catch a cab home. They were about a third of the way to the hotel, and Chuck didn't want company, not now, and not when he reached it. When he pressed play, the scene was different than the one he had seen previously. His father was still with Raina's mother, but Bart appeared to be pleading with her, not arguing. He hugged her and kissed her, but she kept shaking her head. She then said something that caused him to get angry, and that was when the video Chuck recognized appeared. He waited, saw his father rush away like before, but this time, the street didn't stay clear before the building went up in smoke. A man in dark clothing was running from the building, a container of accelerant in his arms. He kept his face turned from the camera until the last few moments he was in view, and Chuck would have recognized him anywhere. Bart wasn't responsible for anything.

Russell Thorpe had murdered his own wife.

…

"Are you ready to tell me now?" asked Blair from the couch in Louis' hotel room as Louis sat beside her and handed her a drink.

"I suppose so," he said. "You might think I'm a little crazy though."

"Never," she said confidently.

"When you did not show for lunch, I was concerned," he explained. "You are always early and text or call to make sure the plans are still intact. So when you were not there and did not answer your phone, I knew something bad happened."

"Makes sense," said Blair with a thoughtful look. "Go on."

"So I went to your building and they said they had not seen you all day. I went to your room and you were not there, but I then noticed something on the elevator on the way down. There was a strange white rag left, along with one of your headbands." Blair touched her hair, just noticing it was missing. "I looked at the security tapes after bribing one of the guards, and I saw those two horrible men attack you and drag you into an emergency stairwell. Following those tapes, I saw as they took you out the exit in a laundry basket and loaded you into a truck."

"My God," breathed Blair, not remembering a thing Louis was describing.

"After that, I had to go through traffic cameras at the police station, under false pretenses, of course. I came as soon as I could."

"Oh Louis," she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. "Thank you, thank you."

"Do not thank me," he said. "It was partly selfish. I do not wish to live without you Blair. I am afraid I cannot."

"That's very sweet."

"It is true. Blair, I am in love with you."

…

"He did what?" Russell growled.

Chuck stayed back, hiding behind an unfinished wall. He didn't know which room Nate or Blair was in, and he figured Russell could unknowingly lead him there. "That wasn't in the plan! First Bass escapes and now this!"

Chuck's ears perked up. Something else had happened?

"I thought I could trust him to keep her where she was supposed to be, but then she's rescued instead? Damn him."

He could hear Russell pacing back and forth and shooting out puffs of air, but his footsteps took a turn toward one of the rooms and he threw open the door.

"I'll just have to guard the other one myself. I'm sure we'll be getting a visitor eventually, and he won't know that the girl is safe."

Chuck nearly fainted with an overwhelming sense of joy in that moment. Blair was safe, Blair was safe, Blair was safe… It would have been too good to be true had it not come from Russell's mouth.

"You're this close to losing your job. I already fired that idiot excuse for a secretary, and I won't hesitate to kick your ass to the curb too."

Chuck followed Russell's steps and slipped in the room behind him, placing a brick in the doorway so they didn't get stuck. He saw Nate's backside and nearly gave away his position in order to get to him. His friend was roped to a column.

"Hope you enjoy your next few hours, Archibald, because they're all you have. Your little friend, Waldorf, got herself saved by a prince, so you're the only sacrificial lamb left." Thorpe laughed mirthlessly. "And you know what the funny part is?" he asked, looking less than amused. "It was my own damn man that rescued her. That's right, that Louis of Monaco was the one who supplied me with the Czechs and the girl's location, said all he wanted in return was a billion dollars. The royal family's pretty deep in debt, and they needed money fast." Russell pounded his fist against the column. "But it turns out it was a ruse the whole time. He wanted her for himself and figured he could play the heroic Prince Charming he's not. Well, at least I have you to fall back on, isn't that right?"

"Not exactly," Chuck announced, making his presence known. "Stand back, Thorpe."

"Or what? You'll strangle me with your scarf?"

Nate couldn't make a sound, but if he could, Chuck knew he'd be laughing, despite their circumstances.

"I've actually been asked that before, and I'm thinking it may be time to test it."

"Whatever," Russell scoffed. "You play with silk, but I play with fire." He held up a match. "This will make this place go up in flames."

"You'll die too," Chuck said, unknotting Nate's binds as he spoke. Nate said a quick thank you when he finished.

"Does it matter?" asked Russell, stretching out his arms. "What do I have? Your father took away my wife."

"No, you did," said Chuck. "And the police will know about it if I don't come out of this building in twenty minutes. My driver has the DVD and instructions." Russell's face morphed into one of shock. "I had a friend decode it, and you were the one to light the building. Don't try to deny it, but I have to know. Why did you do it?"

"Be - because," sputtered Russell. "She was still in love with him! She didn't want me; she wanted him! The reason they were fighting was because she wanted to take Raina and run away, and Bart wanted to make it legal so they wouldn't get in trouble." Russell shook with rage at the memory. "She loved him, and she was going to leave."

"So you didn't let her."

"How could I? I loved her and she was going to go away and take our daughter with her."

"If you really loved her, you would have put her happiness above yours," said Chuck.

"Don't tell me I didn't love Avery!" Russell bellowed. "And I hate that Raina doesn't have her mother."

"She won't have her father, either, unless you put down the matches and come with us," responded Chuck calmly.

"You'll let me go?" Russell wondered skeptically.

"Back to Chicago where you came from, so long as you never return to this island under any circumstances."

"And - and Raina?"

"We won't tell her," said Chuck. "But I think you should. After all, I'm of the opinion she should know who Russell Thorpe really is," he sneered, using Thorpe's own words to spite him.

"Fine." Russell let the unlit matches drop. "I'll go quietly."

…

Chuck stayed true to his word, but Nate hadn't been so easily convinced. He called the police as soon as he returned, and while he was at the station, Chuck went to find Blair, telling the police he would gladly share his side of the story after dealing with a personal issue. Blair was probably still with the prince, and now Chuck knew that his initial instincts had been right. He hadn't taken Louis for a lunatic, but he disliked him from the start. He recalled Blair mentioning that he was staying at The Plaza, and he headed there, hoping she was safe. He ran onto the elevator, ignoring the stares he attracted, and punched the button for the top floor. He swiped a key from the cart of a maid and entered the room as quietly as possible.

"It is true. Blair, I am in love with you," Louis was saying.

"Louis, I - I don't know what to think," Blair replied hesitantly. "How can you know that? We've only known each other a couple months."

"I just know," he said confidently. "You are my soul mate, Blair. And there is something I must ask you. Will you - "

"Blair!" Chuck ran in, ignored the appalled look on a kneeling Louis' face, and practically threw himself on Blair.

"Chuck!" She squeezed him back, her eyes filling with tears. How had she not thought to call him? He needed to know what happened.

"Excuse me," interjected Louis. "But I must ask that you let me finish my conversation with Blair."

"Louis, it's fine. I need to tell Chuck everything, and we can talk later."

"No, Blair, I really feel - "

"Louis," she said again, a note of definitiveness in her tone. "I need to speak with Chuck right now."

"Blair, I want you to marry me!" yelled Louis, patience evaporating.

"Wha - what?" Blair wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly.

"Are you insane?" Chuck all but screamed before Louis answered her question. "You're a psycho who deserves to be in a jail cell, not on a throne, and definitely not with Blair by your side!"

"I don't know what you are talking about," scoffed Louis. "And it is not your place to answer."

"What _are _you talking about, Chuck?" asked Blair. "Louis saved my life today."

"No, that's what he wants you to think. He was one of the orchestrators of it!"

"You know what happened to me?"

"Yes," answered Chuck, "considering it was Russell Thorpe's idea. He wanted to get back at Bart for stealing his wife and building a better company, but since he couldn't do that, I was his second choice. He was using you to get to me."

"Are you okay?" she asked, inspecting him anxiously. "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine," he promised. "But you're not going to be when I'm done with you," he growled, turning his gaze to the retreating prince. "You're not going anywhere."

Go easy, just be

As life gets longer

Got all the time you need

Stay with me my dear

As life gets harder

Whatever strikes, you'll heal

You will heal

**Until next time - xoxo**


	23. Angels

A/N: Aw, I could not have asked for a better response to the last chapter! This one is not so action-packed, but things will pick back up in the next one for sure!

Chairfan (Between our name and chair, I feel the bond already haha!), Young and Careless (I think I might actually do that the next chapter! We'll see ;), RauhlPrincess (Yes, you are right, and I really appreciate it!), merriment (Thanks, you know I love 'em :), Nics (Thank you! YOU are awesome!), anabelle12 (I laughed out loud at your review, and it literally made my day.), kauraREX (I hope this will feed your addiction for at least a little while :), jackyxoxo (Thanks for the review!), and last but never least, livelovelaugh9704 (here's the update, as promised! ;)

P.S. I saw Bloc Party Sunday and they were AMAZING. They hadn't sung "Signs" the whole tour, but they did when I saw them. I took it as a "Sign" that they knew I was in the audience ;)

**Chapter 23: Angels**

And everyday

I am learning about you

The things that no one else sees

And the end comes too soon

Like the dreaming of angels

And leaving without them

And leaving without them

-"Angels" the xx

"Blair, you must know that this accusation is ridiculous!" Louis said, an all but imperceptible hint of discomfort in his voice. Blair caught it.

"Then why do you sound unsure of yourself?" she countered, leaning into the arm Chuck had wrapped around her.

"I find it very insulting that someone would accuse a _prince_ of something like this," he answered quickly. "And I will not stand here and listen to it any longer, so Blair, I will call you later." He began to stride toward the door, but Chuck caught his arm.

"Hold on a minute, _Prince _Louis," Chuck snarled, all the derisiveness he could muster infused into the title. "I think it's in your best interest to stay right where you are."

"With you?" Louis asked. "So you can torture me at your leisure? I think not."

"Better me than Russell Thorpe, who if I ask politely, I can have placed in the same jail cell as you," Chuck said assertively. "Would you like that?"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I would do anything to make sure Blair, Nate, and the rest of the people I care about are safe," said Chuck. "And to get back at the people who try to hurt them," he added seriously.

"What would you have me do?" Louis inquired, realizing the precariousness of his situation and the ease with which Chuck, together with Nate, Blair, and Russell's testimonies, could ruin him forever, making him a black sheep in the Monacan royal family if they cut ties with him, and marking all of them as villains if they didn't.

"You're going to confess to me what you did," said Blair, already knowing Chuck would agree to whatever she had in mind for Louis. "And then you're going to give testimony against Thorpe."

"I can do that," Louis said eagerly.

"I'm not finished." Blair gestured at the couch she had been sitting on before, and Louis tentatively took a seat. She placed her face a few inches from his and narrowed her eyes coldly. Her voice was callous, her posture rigid. "You're going to find those two men you paid to take Nate and me and get them in jail as well, and lastly, I'm going to file a restraining order, and you will stay the hell away from me."

"But, Blair, I - "

"I don't care how you feel about me," she cut in. "You obviously have some serious issues that need to be checked out by a professional if you honestly believe that what you did was an act of love."

"So," said Chuck, lounging on a chair and pulling Blair into his lap, "Let's hear it."

Chuck fumed and saw red as Louis told a nearly identical story to that of Thorpe, while Blair sat silently in cool indifference, the only sign she was even listening her periodic frowns. It was lucky for Louis that she was sitting on Chuck's lap, because otherwise, Chuck would have been more than ready to punch him by the end of the narrative.

"As I said before, I think professional help would be a good idea," Blair concluded, a brooding frown still on her face. "Now shall we?"

"Shall we what?" asked Louis, insulted and confused, but his bravado had evaporated to the point where he could no longer argue with the woman he thought himself to be in love with.

"Head to the jail," she replied easily. "It's a good thing we're being merciful, because you'd never be able to pull off orange."

…

After a few hours of grueling interviews with detectives and an angry confrontation from Russell, Nate was finally at peace with the events of the day. Russell was going to jail for the rest of life, both the Czech men would most likely serve fifteen years, Blair was safe, and Louis would be staying very far away from New York. In fact, he was already on a jet back to Monaco, and Nate figured the only people more pleased about it were Chuck and Blair. The paparazzi were sure to be disappointed, but they would never know the whole story. As many times as Nate had relived what had happened at the station, he knew that he needed to tell Serena everything. He didn't want to scare her, but if the roles were reversed, he would want to know.

"Serena?" he knocked on the door to Serena's bedroom door and hoped she would answer. He planned to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.

"Hey, Nate." Eric swung the door open, and Nate noticed he was wearing pajamas. Serena was sitting on the bed, and she was also wearing sleepwear, a pink camisole and little matching shorts, and both she and her brother had lollipops sticking out of their mouths. "What's going on? Is Chuck okay?"

"Chuck?" Nate asked before remembering that the only reason he knew Serena was here was because of Chuck's recounting of his telephone conversation with Serena earlier in the day. "Oh yeah, he's fine," said Nate, sliding into the bed next to Serena.

"Thank goodness," said Eric, breathing easier now that he knew his older brother was safe. "What happened today?"

"I was just going to tell Serena, but now that I think about it, you should probably know too," Nate replied, figuring Chuck would want Eric to hear what was happening.

The conversation went as expected. Serena shrieked with horror at multiple parts of the story, while Eric sat in soundless consideration, mulling over in silence everything that Nate was describing in as little detail as possible. Serena clenched Nate's arm as if assuring herself that he was real, and she cried when Nate got the part about Chuck's rescue of both him and Blair.

"Serena, are you going to be okay? I think you're more shaken up than I am," said Nate with a slight laugh.

"I'm so g - glad you're all right, and I - I'm really proud to have Chuck as a brother," she replied with a wobbly smile.

"Me too," Eric declared, breaking his silence.

"It's just so bizarre," Serena whispered, shaking her head of golden waves. "All of it."

"Do you think everything will be able to go back to normal?" asked Eric, his voice only slightly louder than his sister's.

"I have no idea," said Nate honestly. "But I hope so."

…

"So the caterer has already been booked, as has the band, and we also have the venue ready to go. The florist has been hired. The invitations have been mailed." Blair stood in the front of the room addressing the members of the Hamilton House holiday party committee checking off items on a whiteboard. "I think we're in a really good place right now." It had been two weeks since the horror caused by Russell and Louis, and not only was the party in a good place, _she _was in a good place.

"Excellent work, Blair," complimented Maggie after the meeting was adjourned. Maggie was a junior, and father was a big shot lawyer from Los Angeles. She and Blair had bonded over their father's careers and their mutual desire to stay away from law in order to create their own paths.

"Thanks, Mags," Blair answered with a grin. She knew how impressive her work was.

"So who's your date?" Maggie asked casually, twirling her honey blond hair and giving Blair a small grin. "As if we didn't already know," she clarified, poking Blair's side and getting a signature eye roll in return.

"Actually, he hasn't asked yet," snapped Blair irritably. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't mention _you-know-who _to me anymore."

"Who, Chuck?" Maggie replied, but her green eyes sparkled with amusement. "Oh, you mean Chuck Bass! CEO of Bass Industries, owner of more designer suits than any other man in Manhattan, and the _best_ sex of your life," Maggie continued, ticking off the accomplishments with her fingers.

"Maggie," Blair growled in warning, but her anger was dissipating. It was difficult to stay annoyed with the warm, clever California girl.

"He's going to ask," Maggie assured her, linking their arms and picking up their pace. "I know he will."

"Well, we're not official, so he might think it's a bad idea," said Blair, confessing her uncertainties. "It might be too… tempting," she settled on, moping as she dragged her feet along the pavement.

"He loves you, you love him! I don't understand what the big deal is!" argued Maggie, almost as exasperated as Blair with the strange relationship Blair currently had with Chuck. The pair had spent close to no time together the past couple weeks, and Blair was alternately avoiding him or doing everything she could to throw herself in his path by going to the bars at The Empire and The Palace, showing up with Serena when she went to visit Nate, and one day, she even went so far as to go to Bass Industries, her attempt at a convincing subterfuge failing miserably when the only excuse she could give to the secretary was that she was dropping by to see Lilly. Before the secretary could even respond, Blair rushed out, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment as she fled. And the few times she had successfully crossed paths with Chuck, she couldn't find anything to say, no matter how much she had rehearsed their witty, romantic dialogue in her mind before going to bed.

"It made sense when we decided to wait," sighed Blair. "I needed become a powerful woman, and he needed to focus on Bass Industries."

"Blair, you're plenty powerful, believe me," laughed Maggie. "You may be only a sophomore, but you strike fear into even the seniors."

"True," Blair agreed, smiling. "But I don't feel as powerful as I want to."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Well, Anne Archibald is in charge of a new foundation that benefits underprivileged, young girls, and she needs a face for her campaign," said Blair, the wheels turning. "And I know someone who would be perfect."

"Me?" asked Maggie with a winning smile. "I mean, come on, this face belongs on billboards." She then stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes at Blair.

"Pretty." Blair giggled at her friend. "But really, Mags, I think this could be a big break for me."

"Then I know you'll get it," said Maggie confidently. "Anne would be lucky to have someone as amazing as you."

"You better be right," Blair replied. "Because I don't know how much more of this I can take."

…

"I don't know how much more of this I can take!" Chuck shouted, running his fingers through his slick coif.

"For the love of God, Chuck, just ask her to that party at Columbia," Serena said, her arms folded. "I can't handle her whining about it anymore."

"Whining?" Chuck asked, interested. "What has she been whining about?"

"Other than you?" asked Serena, her mouth and eyebrows quirking at the same time. "Let me think. You, you, you, you, and some more about you."

"What _about _me?"

"That she wants you to ask her to that damn party!" exploded Serena. "So just do it, or I will for you!"

"Okay, I'll ask her," conceded Chuck. "But after Thanksgiving. I need to get through that first."

"Thank God." Serena poured them both tall glasses of vodka-soda and squeezed the juice of a lime into them. Handing Chuck's drink to him, she held hers up to make a toast. "Here's to my brother and my best friend, that they may find their way back to each other once and for all."

"Amen!" Nate cried, entering the room, his hair still damp from his shower. "You ready to go, Serena?"

"Yep," she answered, knocking back the alcohol. "Have a nice night with your thoughts Chuck. You know, they're not going to keep you warm in bed tonight."

"At least I have them. All you hear is a dull buzzing whenever you try to think." Nate glanced at his girlfriend and best friend and relaxed upon noticing their matching grins.

"Right now, I'm _thinking_ that you should call Blair. I'm pretty positive she doesn't have any plans tonight," she inveigled him, pursing her lips.

"Just go, sis," Chuck ordered, pushing her into Nate. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. We're still going to lunch, correct?"

"Yeah, and my mom and Eric can't wait," Serena said genuinely. "We're going to have a real family lunch, the four of us."

"Bye Serena," said Chuck, also looking forward to it. He hoped to make it a weekly tradition.

"Bye!" she chirped. Nate gave Chuck a wave before holding his hand up by his ear like a phone and mouthing _call her._ Chuck rolled his eyes, but nevertheless, he picked up his cell as soon as they were out the door.

…

Piles of magazine cutouts and spreads surrounded Blair as she sat on the floor of her bedroom. _W _was more work than she anticipated, and Epperly had her going full-force on an online feature about the best holiday looks for every type of event. She was debating whether a little black cocktail dress by Michael Kors or a more noticeable red silk blouse and grey pencil skirt from Vera Wang would be more suitable for an office party when Chuck called. When she first saw his name flash on her caller ID, she assumed she was hallucinating. Was he really calling after their two weeks of incessant mutual evasion, broken only by Blair's flashes of insanity? As the ringing kept on, she put her qualms to rest for now and hit accept.

"Hey, what do you think is more suitable for an office holiday party?" she asked casually, not wanting things to feel uncomfortable. "An LBD or a bright silk shirt and pencil skirt?"

"Designers?"

"Michael Kors and Vera Wang respectively."

"LBD, then," said Chuck decisively.

"You're right. The Vera is too much."

"Is this something for _W_?" Chuck wondered.

"Yes," replied Blair. "It's for an online article. I have to finish by tomorrow, and I think I may be over my head here."

"Want me to come over and help?" offered Chuck carefully. Blair nearly dropped her phone, but a smile immediately stretched across her face.

"That would be great!"

"See you in ten then."

By the time Chuck arrived, she had her piles relatively organized. There was one with dresses, another with skirts, and others that featured blouses, pants, shoes, bags, and jewelry. Completed outfits were pinned onto a corkboard under their category.

"That's quite a system you've got going there," Chuck observed, entering Blair's room and sitting beside her without preamble.

"I'm an organized person," she said with a shrug.

"You're anal is more accurate," argued Chuck with a smirk.

"Okay, so perhaps I like to be in control," she amended.

"Which I support wholeheartedly," said Chuck slyly. "Especially in this room." He looked around the room he hadn't been in for months. She hit his arm playfully and ignored him, sorting through the shoes pile to find the pair of DKNY pumps she wanted to pair with the black dress. "So how far are you?"

"About halfway," Blair guessed. "All I have left is two more office party outfits, five casual looks for hanging out with family, and five for black tie events." They ended up dividing the tasks. Blair did the casual ones, and Chuck did the formal, because he didn't know much about dressing casually. It wasn't Blair's forte either, but she could manage to pull together anything and make it perfect. They worked mostly in silence, but it was comfortable, and Chuck would share little anecdotes about Bass Industries and how things were going with the new hotel, while Blair would discuss school, _W _(repeating several times how nice it was that Dan had resigned)_,_ and avoid anything to do with Hamilton House like the plague.

"We're done!" she announced excitedly when everything was carefully pinned to the corkboard. "It looks great."

"Of course it does," said Chuck. "We make an amazing team, always have."

"And always will," she answered absent-mindedly, the comment slipping out before she could consider her words. She didn't see Chuck's smile, instead choosing to rearrange an already perfectly aligned photo on the pin board.

"Blair, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?" Chuck queried out of the blue, surprising her.

"Oh, I'm not sure yet," she admitted, turning back to face him. "My mother thinks she's going to be stuck in Paris for work, and Daddy and Roman have had a vacation planned to Greece for ages, and Thanksgiving is the best time for them to go. Some special trip package through Roman's friend or something," she said with a sigh. Another Thanksgiving without her father. It was horrible to have grown so used to it.

"You should come spend it with us. The Archibalds are coming to Lily's too, and unfortunately Rufus will be there, but his spawn won't. You should come," he reiterated.

"I don't want to intrude," she said lightly.

"Intrude?" Chuck scoffed. "By spending a holiday with people who love you? You're coming Blair, no excuses," he decided.

"Okay," she relented. "I'll go."

…

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, Blair had met with Anne Archibald more than once over the possibility of her becoming the face for Girls, Inc. And while at first she had mainly been interested in what the opportunity meant for _her, _she soon became invested in the lives she could be changing by becoming involved in the foundation. Anne was impressed by her enthusiasm and drive, just as she had been when Blair dated Nate in high school. In fact, to Anne, it seemed that her motivation and passion had increased ten-fold over the past couple of years. Both women were looking forward to seeing each other at Lily's Thanksgiving dinner.

"Happy Turkey Day!" Blair said excitedly, carrying her signature pie in her arms and trailed by Dorota, Vanja, and their baby daughter, whom Chuck had insisted on inviting as well.

"Happy Thanksgiving, dear," said Lily, kissing her cheek and giving her a warm smile. "I think someone's been eagerly awaiting your arrival all day." She nodded in Chuck's direction. He was discussing something with Eric, and as he let out a laugh, Blair smiled. She loved that laugh.

"Then I suppose I should say hi," she told Lily.

"That you should. Here, I'll take this." She grabbed the pie, placed it on the kitchen counter, and watched as Chuck grinned widely after seeing Blair, before asking Rufus, "Have you seen Serena anywhere?"

"No, I haven't," he answered, stirring the homemade gravy he was working on. He held up his spoon to Lily. "Here, taste this. I think it's about right."

"She better be back soon," said Lily, ignoring her husband's request as she fretted over Serena's whereabouts. "I won't be happy without my daughter here to celebrate."

…

Serena shot out of Nate's bed after glancing at the clock.

"Oh my God, we're going to be late!"

"What?" Nate asked, still drowsy after their lovemaking session and brief afternoon nap.

"We have to get to my mom's!" She threw open Nate's closet and selected a suit, tossing the clothes to him on the bed. "Get dressed!"

"Serena, I'm sure your mom will understand if we're a few minutes late," he said calmly, hoping to soothe her, but it backfired.

"No, she won't! And your parents are coming too!" It was true that both Anne and Howard would be attending. Howard had finally been released and was laying low and trying to ease back into things. Going to Lily's was a big step for him, and Nate had told Serena how important it was, which now seemed like a terrible idea. "What if your parents don't like that we're dating? Your mom has always hated me; I just know it!" she cried.

"Serena, please. I've already informed my mom that I love you, and she's happy for me. Don't stress yourself out about this."

"And your dad? He always adored Blair, and I'm nothing like her," moaned Serena, rifting through her overnight bag to find something suitable to wear in front of Nate's parents. All her hemlines suddenly seemed too short, the fabrics too clingy, the silhouettes too tight to her body.

"Serena, look at me." Nate stood in front of her, holding her face in his hands. "I love you. Say it back."

"I love you too," she grumbled.

"And my parents will grow to love you."

"But - "

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Of course," she said, rolling her eyes. "But you're so optimistic sometimes that it's hard for me to agree with you."

"Then do me a favor, and make this the one out of ten things that you go along with." She nodded her head slowly, and she only had to yell at Nate to hurry twice before they set off to Lily's.

…

"So, Blair, how is Hamilton House treating you?" asked Anne Archibald, scooting closer to her on the couch. "I've met many lovely women who were members."

"It's wonderful," said Blair honestly. "As are the girls. I've met some great friends already."

"I'm so glad," Anne said. "I remember you mentioning a holiday party you're planning. Is that the one?"

"Yes. It's going to be the best one yet," she replied with confidence.

"Anything Blair does is the best," Chuck put in, choosing the chair to Anne's left in the living room.

"Hello, Charles," greeted Anne formally, a careful and demure tight-lipped smile on her face. "How have you been?"

"Swell," said Chuck sarcastically. "Almost lost my company, but other than that, just dandy."

"Yes, I read about your struggles," Anne said, used to the sarcasm often employed by her son's best friend. "But I was happy to see the _Times _article that featured your plans for a new hotel."

"It's going to be incredible," remarked Blair, casting Chuck a proud glance.

"Well, it certainly helps that you've been involved in the process. Blair is a meticulous planner, not to mention, she has the best style of any woman I know," Chuck commented, the derision gone. "The suites are all her."

"Very impressive, Blair." Anne took a sip of her red wine and smiled. "I was going to tell you at the end of the night, but I think I may as well tell you now. I would love for you to be the face of Girls, Inc.!"

"Really?" Blair breathed elatedly.

"Yes," Anne confirmed. "Would you like that?"

"I'd love it!" She and Anne shared a hug, and when Blair pulled away, she saw that Serena had appeared and seemed to be on the verge of vomiting. Blair didn't know why Serena looked that way, but she was concerned. "Serena, are you okay?"

"Fine," Serena said unconvincingly. "Hello, Mrs. Archibald."

"Serena," said Anne coolly, her expression only a modicum away from being described as a scowl.

"Um, how are you?" Serena asked, nervously picking at a dress that was far more modest than her usual looks. It was a brown and white striped, long-sleeve wrap dress with only a miniscule V in the front.

"Fine." Anne all but disregarded Serena and placed her attention back on Blair. "Blair, sweetie, we need to talk about plans for the campaign! How about we go discuss it in the dining room?" Blair recognized what Anne was trying to do, so for Serena's sake, she gracefully declined.

"Perhaps we should keep Thanksgiving free of business talk now," she said politely.

"No, you're right," Anne replied, shaking her head. "How silly of me to suggest it."

"Not at all. I'm very excited too," Blair added to spare Anne any embarrassment. "Serena, why don't you tell Anne what you've been working on lately?"

"Sure," said Serena, giving Blair a grateful look. "I've been continuing my blog for the _Spectator_ and also writing freelance articles for _New York Magazine_. I had one published last month."

"Oh? What was it on?" baited Anne. Serena was a naïve girl, and she should have known better to set herself up for this one. Anne had already read the article, which was about whether certain foods really worked as aphrodisiacs and her personal experiences with testing them.

"It was on, uh - "

"Look, the team just scored a goal!" Blair interrupted, saving Serena from what was sure to be an awkward situation.

"Which team?" asked Nate, entering the room with his father.

"The blue one?" responded Blair innocently.

"First of all, they're both blue," Nate educated the room. "Second of all, it's called a touchdown, not a goal. And third, the team that scored is called the Giants, and they're playing the Cowboys."

"Which one do we want?"

"The Giants," said Chuck, shocking everyone listening. "Nate told me how bad he wanted them to win this year," he continued, which Nate confirmed with a nod. "Don't worry, I'm not becoming a sports junky anytime soon."

"That's a relief," Blair said. "Because I don't want to be forced to watch them with you."

"Like how you force me to watch Keeping Up With the Kardashians with you?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows.

"Hey, they're famous for no reason, and they still manage to make millions of dollars a year," Blair defended. "I could use some of that business savvy."

"You watch it for the drama," Chuck countered, and each of the other guests voiced his or her agreement. Eric even went so far as to mumble that Blair loved being a drama queen.

"I resent that, Eric," she said teasingly. "But, okay, you got me." Everyone laughed, and Lily walked in holding a glass of champagne in her hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served."

And with words unspoken

A silent devotion

I know you know what I mean

And the end is unknown

But I think I'm ready

As long as you're with me

**Until next time - xoxo**


	24. Conversation 16

A/N: I would like to start off by saying that Florence Welch is a flawless human being, and you need to go see her in concert ASAP. It was perfection. Okay, now that I've said that, I have to send out my thank you notes!

Cheers for: Tigger23 (I completely agree. I think his parents may be cyborgs.), anabelle12 (Aw, I'm blushing :), livelovelaugh9704 (Gracias as always), RauhlPrincess (Here's some more turkey day for you! Hope you like it!), ChairforLife (Thank you! It kills me that I'm not the one writing the show, but this is the next best thing :), kauraREX (You may be onto something ;), and finally my two guests! I would love for guests to put a pen name when they review so that I can respond! Thanks to all of you!

Oh, and Young and Careless? I think you're going to like this one. ;)

**Chapter 24: Conversation 16**

I think the kids are in trouble  
Do not know what all the troubles are for  
Give them ice for their fevers  
You're the only thing I ever want anymore

-"Conversation 16" The National

"Blair, would you be so kind as to pass the cranberry sauce?" Anne gave Blair her most winning smile as Blair complied, handing the sauce from across the table.

"Of course. Here you are."

"Thank you." Witnessing the scene before her, Serena dejectedly shoved mouthfuls of turkey into her mouth, chomping morsels of it in an unladylike manner. Anne noticed. "You may want to slow down with the carnivorous devouring, Serena. Eating so quickly is very bad for digestion and your figure besides."

"You're right," mumbled Serena, pasting a fake smile on her face and lowering her fork. She took a slow sip of her drink and sighed with the drama of a Shakespearean scene. Nate gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze under the table, but it wasn't enough to improve Serena's mood or her status outside of Anne's good graces.

"So, Eric, where are you thinking of going to school next year?" asked Chuck, hoping to ease the tension.

"Columbia, perhaps?" Blair added, jumping in on the opportunity Chuck presented. "I know we'd love to add a new lion to the pride." She winked charmingly and Chuck snorted at her total lack of subtlety.

"As much as I'd enjoy being at school with you, I was actually thinking Brown," answered Eric. He cast his mother a warm smile, which she returned.

"I'm so proud of my little boy," Lily said. "I know he'll make me even prouder wherever he ends up going."

"I think it's sweet that he wants to follow the Brown path," complimented Anne. "At least someone should continue the family's legacy." She cast a pointed look at Serena.

"Well, Mom, you're going to have to have another kid if you think that's going to happen in our family," Nate said with a chuckle, assuming Anne was referring to him skipping out on Dartmouth. "Actually, I already know that's not possible, so you're all out of luck."

"Come on, Nate, there's always graduate school," his father said animatedly, thinking of the possibilities.

"Yeah, Nathaniel, at the rate you're going, you can graduate the undergrad program at Columbia when you're twenty-eight and Dartmouth's graduate school by the time you're over the hill," Chuck commented sardonically. His playful dig amused all but Nate's parents.

"Nate, are you not taking your studies seriously?" Anne had a concerned crease between her eyebrows, and Howard crossed his arms and gave Nate a steely look.

"Mom, come on, I'm a little busy with_ The Spectator_, but I'm trying my best to get to my classes too."

"He always comes to the business class we have together," said Blair, defending her friend. "And he's doing really well."

"I'm glad to hear that," Howard said, his face relaxing.

"Well, not so much in Stats or Calculus," Nate admitted sheepishly. Blair scowled at him. Why couldn't have he just let it go and kept his parents out of it?

"Oh?" asked Anne.

"Yeah, I pretty much suck at math."

"You know what?" Blair butt in, done with the conversation. "How about I just tutor him in math? I guarantee he'll pull out a B for the year."

"Careful, Blair, you don't know what grade I have now," said Nate, grinning wryly.

"I must say, I think that's a wonderful idea." Anne clapped her hands together, and her smile looked decidedly less robotic than usual. "Blair, you have always been an extremely intelligent young woman, and Nate could learn a lot from you. I remember that when you two were dating, I would come home and see you helping him with his homework…"

"Okay, Mom, I think that's enough of a blast to the past." Nate looked over to Serena, who was folding her napkin in her lap then carefully unfolding and repeating the cycle. She suddenly looked up, squared her shoulders, and narrowed her eyes.

"Blair has to work really hard to get good grades," announced Serena loudly. She was tired of Anne always putting her down and looking at Blair like she was her future daughter-in-law! It was as if she purposely didn't catch the furtive, amorous glances Blair and Chuck were making at each other during the entire meal, and she couldn't accept that Blair and Nate's relationship had ended a long time ago. "For other people it comes more naturally. You know, I was actually accepted into Yale, and she got waitlisted. She was really mad, but they thought I was way more charming and interesting, and I was exactly the kind of student they wanted."

"Serena!" Lily and Chuck both interjected at the same moment. Lily appeared anxious; Chuck just looked livid. If Serena was really serious about making a good impression on Anne, then insulting Blair and bragging about herself wasn't the way to do it, not to mention she would quickly lose the support Blair was giving her.

"Excuse me a minute, please." Before waiting for an answer, Blair scooted out her high-backed chair and ran to the bathroom.

"Nice one there, Sis," Chuck sneered, rushing after Blair.

"Seriously, Serena, that was really mean," Eric said with more force and rancor than Serena thought possible. "You should know not to bring up Yale."

"I remember I couldn't bring up Dartmouth for a while around Dan," Rufus added, not nearly as harsh as Eric, but still with a bit of bite. "It was a sensitive issue." Serena scanned the table. Not one of the faces gave her as much as a heartening look.

"I – I didn't mean to – "

"Didn't mean to what, Serena?" asked Anne, raising her eyebrows accusatorially. "I think you knew exactly what you were doing. You were trying to impress me without caring whose expense it was at, and let me tell you, I am not impressed. Blair has been nothing but a wonderful class act as long as I have known her, and I don't believe she would do this to you."

"But she would! Don't you get it?" Serena was exasperated, shaking her head as tears pricked her eyes. "Blair only cares about herself!"

"So why did she ask for me to give you a position with Girls, Inc.?"

"She – she what?"

"Maybe you need to take a good look in the mirror, Serena, before you presume to critique the reflection you see of others. It's only a reflection, after all, and they can become distorted, especially through jealousy," said Anne.

"I'm not jealous of her," sneered Serena. "I would never want to be Blair!"

"Maybe you should change that."

"Mom!" Nate was let down by the way Serena was acting, but he knew it stemmed from her own problems rather than problems with Blair. His mother, on the other hand, had no excuse.

"Nate, I'm only looking out for her, and let's be realistic here. You have Vanderbilt blood in your body, and you need someone worthy of your social standing."

"Your mother is right," agreed Howard. He sighed and gave Blair's pie a regretful look. "Anne, I think we should head out."

"Yes, that would be a good idea," said Lily. "Thank you for coming," she tacked on, ever the gracious hostess.

"And thank you for having us," replied Anne. "Tell Blair I said goodbye, would you?" she asked Eric, who she could tell was firmly placed on Blair's side in this fight.

"I'd be happy to." Anne nodded in satisfaction, and she and Howard left arm in arm.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Serena snarled after they had gone. "I know everyone wants Blair and not me, so I'm very sorry that I happen to be Serena van der Woodsen instead of her!" Serena stormed off and the distinct slam of a bedroom door could be heard in the dining room.

"I'm going, I'm going," sighed Nate, walking to Serena's bedroom.

"And then there were three," said Rufus, glancing at the abandoned place settings around him. "So… Who wants pie?"

…

"I don't understand why she would bring up Yale of all things," cried Blair. She was seated in the middle of Chuck's bed on the verge of tears.

"Are you still disappointed that you aren't there?"

"No," confessed Blair. "I love Columbia. But she still shouldn't have said something like that after we had already gone through such a struggle with it before. Did you know that we even had a fight in the middle of Barney's?"

"A barney in Barney's," Chuck joked, climbing in next to Blair.

"You're quite the wisecrack, aren't you?"

"You've known that a while," he said, lying back on the bed and stretching out his limbs. "So why are you upset with Serena if it's not out of bitterness?"

"I'm upset with the way she's handling things," Blair said slowly, relaxing against the bed as well. "She should be mature enough not to get petty over Anne's favor. Then again, she seemed far too sad for that to be it. Maybe Anne wasn't really the problem. Maybe she only provided means of releasing the real ones."

"It sounds like you need to talk to Serena."

"I prefer talking to you." She curled up against him, leaning her head against his chest and encircling his waist with her arm.

"Everyone does," said Chuck, kissing her forehead. "But you still have to talk to my sister, because no matter how much of a pain in the ass she is sometimes, she's your best friend."

"You know what's disturbing?" asked Blair, starting on a different vein of conversation.

"Serena's nauseating dress today?" supplied Chuck. Blair frowned for a moment, considering.

"Well, yes, it does have a bit of a vomit-colored undertone, but that's not what I was going for."

"That Eric is going to college next year, and he might be a state away from us?" he tried again.

"That too, but no, so stop guessing."

"Alright, what then?"

"What is so utterly disturbing is the increasing occurrence of you being right," teased Blair. Chuck smirked, and she tightened her hold on him.

"Then you should probably listen to me and go talk to Serena now, shouldn't you?" Blair acknowledged his logic, reluctantly sat up, rising like a zombie woken from the grave, and stopped her fluid motion only when she reached the doorway.

"Thanks, Chuck. I owe you a therapy session."

"How about a dance at the Hamilton House party you've been planning instead?" Chuck blurted without consideration, his plans of a romantic gesture dashed.

"That's a debt I couldn't be happier to repay." Blair's smile convinced him it was worth it.

…

"Who is it?" Serena asked as she and Nate turned their heads to the door.

"Blair." She should have known it was Blair. No one else had the precise trio of raps down so perfectly.

"Come in," said Serena. The door cracked open, and Blair came in quietly and sat next to Serena without a word.

"Hey, S," she finally said, tiredness in her voice.

"I'll just go," Nate said, knowing he was only going to be ignored anyway. He had done his best to comfort Serena, but most of what she said couldn't be classified as coherent English, so there wasn't much he _could _do.

"I'm sorry," Blair began after the pregnant pause of discourse.

"_You're _sorry?" balked an astonished Serena. "What the hell are you sorry for?"

"I don't know actually," laughed Blair. "Um, for being so used to being the one that has to apologize that I do it without even thinking? It's like a reflex. Serena and I fight, I push her into a fountain, I apologize."

"I think you're forgetting the time I pushed you into a cake," said Serena with a chuckle. "You didn't have to apologize for that one."

"Please. I came to that party with a prostitute as my fake friend."

"Good point," ceded Serena, considering.

"Besides, you did me a favor in a way," Blair said with a mischievous smirk.

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say Chuck was more than willing to lick every inch of that icing off my – "

"Okay, okay," Serena interrupted with a horrified expression. "That's way too gross to hear about."

"If you'd rather watch it, I'm sure Chuck could pull the tapes from the cameras in the hotel," said Blair, her eyes wide and innocent. "I'll even make popcorn."

"Ew," Serena squealed, pushing Blair's shoulders and pretending to vomit at the thought of watching her best friend and brother fornicate at the Empire. It wasn't far from the truth, as she did feel a bit of bile creep to the front of her throat. "He's corrupted you!"

"That's what _I _said," said Blair haughtily. "But he informed me that _he_ wasn't the cause of the corruption, only the stimulant. Can you believe that?"

"Now that I think about it, yes. It was more of a case of further corrupting than initial corruption."

"S!" Blair gave Serena a taste of her own medicine, shoving her arm playfully, which caused both girls to giggle. "Hey, Serena?" Blair asked gravely after a moment. "Want to tell me what's really going on to make you so unhappy?"

"I'm not sure exactly," confessed Serena, relieved to finally have the chance to lift the weight off her chest. "I love Nate, and _he _makes me happy, but there's still something wrong!"

"And I'm sure Anne didn't make you feel any better," said Blair dryly with a bitter edge.

"No," Serena agreed. "She made me feel even more terribly about myself than I do already, and I also feel guilty about Nate."

"What do you mean?"

"To Nate, there's happy and there's unhappy," said Serena. "You know that with him there aren't any in betweens, and I think that's where I am right now, kind of a no man's land. He wouldn't understand, and he would take it to mean that I'm not happy because of him."

"Which obviously isn't true," Blair told her. "You practically glow around him."

"Thanks, B," Serena, smiling wearily. "I just don't know what to do to fix it. How can you fix something if you don't know exactly what's broken?"

"Try to fix everything I guess," said Blair with a shrug. "Though with you, that'd take a while," she added slyly. Serena rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious, Blair."

"Okay." Blair pulled her legs up to her chest and frowned as she thought about what Serena had been going through lately. According to Nate, she had been horrified by the events of two weeks ago, and while Blair was strong enough to recover relatively quickly and return to her old self, Serena _had _been acting somewhat strange. "S, does this have something to do with what happened with Thorpe and Louis perchance?"

"Oh my God, yes!" Serena said, nodding eagerly.

"What exactly?" pressed Blair.

"If I had been the one to, I mean if I was the one trapped and someone hadn't gotten to me in time," said Serena. "Then what would people say?"

"That the world lost an incredible person and the sun won't shine as bright without her," said Blair easily.

"No, but about what I had achieved. What have I really done, Blair? I've written a few blog posts and articles, and _you _have asked Anne to give me a job, but I haven't really done anything to put down in an epitaph."

"And that scares you?" asked Blair. "Serena, you're nineteen! What are you supposed to have done? Cure cancer?"

"Make fun all you want, but I know what I have to do now," said Serena soberly, her face staid. "It's something I've always wanted to do, but I've never had the guts to do it."

"What are you going to do, S?" Blair wondered, indulging Serena and satisfying her own curiosity. With all Blair's knowledge of her best friend, even she couldn't imagine what Serena said next.

"I'm moving to Africa."

…

On Friday morning, Dan stared at a book. It had a cover. It had a binding. It had pages, 342 of them. And it had _his_ name on it – Dan Humphrey. He couldn't _stop _staring. So when he heard the female voice, he couldn't manage to tear himself away to look at her.

"Hey, what are you reading?"

"I'm not reading it at the moment," he answered distractedly, still overwhelmed by the vision of _his_ book.

"Just looking at it then?"

"I guess so," he said, chuckling.

"Shall I leave you to it?" she asked.

"I'm being rude, aren't I?" Dan questioned the stranger, presenting a question in place of an answer. He finally looked up from his book and was pleased to see that the girl was attractive, her honey blond hair straight and her lips pink and pouty.

"Just a smidge," she said, her smile wide. "I'm Charlie Rhodes, by the way."

"Dan Humphrey," he answered. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee? It's the least I can do."

"I don't know if I want to get in between you and your book. It seems serious," she teased.

"I think my book will be okay without me for a while," he said. "I've recently discovered that it has been causing me to ignore pretty girls."

"Oh yeah?" asked Charlie, taking a seat across from him. "And how many have you used that line on?"

"Would you believe me if I said only you?"

"Not a chance," she replied. "You seem like a suave ladies' man."

"Pretty _and _smart," said Dan. "I'm impressed."

"So am I – that's your name on that book! No wonder you were staring."

"Yeah I'm pretty excited, but it's somewhat diminished by the fact that it didn't go over well with the people it's actually about."

"It's about real people?" asked Charlie, leaning closer in order to see the book better.

"Upper East Siders," said Dan. "My ex-best friend, my ex-girlfriend, my ex-infatuation, my ex-" Dan thought for a moment. "Well, he's still my enemy."

"And you won't consider name dropping by any chance?" she asked coquettishly.

"How do I know you won't tell?"

"Oh, I know how to keep a secret."

"You'll fit right in with this town then," muttered Dan cynically.

"Here's hoping. Jacksonville isn't exactly a hick town, but it sure felt like it when I stepped off the plane," said Charlie, sipping her latte and shrugging her shoulders insouciantly.

"I guess I can trust an outsider, considering I wrote this book about being one," said Dan, deciding it couldn't hurt to share. He hadn't had much interaction with living beings other than his seventy-year old neighbor and her unfriendly cat. He still had spindly white scars from the attack the cat made on him when he attempted to pet it, and he was promptly met with a tongue lashing from the old lady. It seemed everyone hated him, and if this girl was willing to talk to him, who was he to say no to a simple request? "My ex-best friend is Nate Archibald, and he's pissed because I combined his character with my step-brother, who also happens to be younger and gay. And my ex-girlfriend is Serena van der Woodsen, and she's pissed because I made her character out to be a selfish slut. My ex-infatuation is Blair Waldorf, and she's pissed because I had our characters together romantically and she also just generally hates me. My enemy is Chuck Bass, and he's always pissed."

"Don't hold back," laughed Charlie. "And wait; did you say Serena van der Woodsen?"

"Yeah, I figured you wouldn't believe that one," said Dan, rolling his eyes.

"No, I asked because she's my cousin! I'm Carol's daughter," Charlie explained.

"What a small world," mumbled Dan, annoyed by this bad turn of events. Of course she would be related to someone who hated him.

"Hey, I'm not my cousin," Charlie assured him. "I actually don't even _know _my cousin. I've never met her."

"Oh, well don't mention me if you do. I don't want her to take her anger out on you."

"Oh my God!" Charlie suddenly shrieked, standing up from her seat in the café. "Oh my God, that guy just got hit by a bus!"

"What?" Dan turned his head to see out the window and spotted a motionless body in the middle of the street, his shabby overcoat and worn, leather briefcase beside him. A pair of glasses was shattered by his head. "Who is that?"

"How should I know? We should go see if we can help!" Charlie grabbed Dan by the elbow after he swiped his book from the table, and the pair exited the coffee shop, sprinting to the man as soon as they reached the street. "Sir? Sir, can you hear me?" asked Charlie, grabbing his wrist to check for a pulse. "Call 911!" she ordered Dan, pressing down on the man's chest at the same time in the hope of utilizing the CPR skills she learned at the local YMCA at the age of 12. "I really don't want to do mouth to mouth, so please wake up," she mumbled as she worked.

By the time the ambulance arrived, Charlie was both exhausted and hopeless. The grim looks on the faces of the paramedics confirmed her fear – the unknown man was dead.

"My God, that's Russell Thorpe!" a woman shouted, pointing to the man on the stretcher.

"No, no that isn't possible," another countered. "He's worth billions."

"Not since he got arrested for attempted murder! They froze his assets, and he hasn't been allowed any comforts in prison. It's a wonder he managed to get the clothes he had."

"But how did he break out of prison?" a third person chimed in, furrowing his brow in bewilderment. "He was in lockdown, and I thought he was under psych watch too."

"He was," the woman answered, eyes wide with shock. "I don't understand how it was possible."

"It had to be someone on the inside!"

"I can't believe this!"

"Bass must be pleased at the end result, though!"

"Russell Thorpe is dead?"

The crowed buzzed with excitement, the voices eventually blending together as more and more people stopped to watch the ambulance drive away.

"Well," concluded Charlie. "I think you have a subject for your next book."

…

"She wants to what?"

"Go to Africa!" Blair screeched. "Can you two please tell your sister that she is insane?"

"Why does she want to go?" asked Eric, still confused by Serena's most recent decision.

"To help the orphans or something!" shouted Blair. She threw up her hands in exasperation.

"And why now?"

"Because she's all freaked out that she's going to die without accomplishing anything worthwhile," Blair moaned, pacing the room. "It's ridiculous!"

"This is because of what happened to you and Nate," Chuck guessed, mildly amused by his sister's idea and especially Blair's reaction.

"Precisely, and now I don't know how to change her mind."

"Why don't you just let her go?"

"Eric, how can you say that? She's your sister!"

"Yeah and she's stuck in her self-absorbed bubble of obnoxiousness. A little time in Africa will do her some good, bring her back to earth," rationalized Eric.

"That's stupid," Blair scoffed.

"Now I'm thinking you should go with her."

"Shut up, Eric!"

The bell to the elevator sounded, and the trio fell silent.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bass?" An attendant entered the suite of the Empire, and his voice shook from nervousness.

"What is it, Brian?"

"It's Mr. Thorpe." Chuck immediately latched onto Blair and planned on keeping her tethered to him until he knew exactly what happened. "He's dead."

"He's – he's what?" Blair's jaw dropped.

"Mr. Thorpe was hit by a bus this morning. The bus driver, name is Jay, ran a red light, and she's being charged for involuntary manslaughter."

"How did he get out?"

"That's still unknown, Mr. Bass," said Brian. "The authorities are investigating as we speak."

"Thank you, Brian." The dismissal was evident in Blair's tone.

"Miss Waldorf, Mr. van der Woodsen, Mr. Bass," said Brian, acknowledging each of them as he left.

"I'm getting Mike on this," growled Chuck under his breath. "I'm going to find out who let Russell out, and they're going to pay."

"Maybe that's not a good idea," said Blair. "Think about it. If we let this lie, then it will be over, and we can forget about it."

"How would I be able to forget that there is someone out there that helped release your attempted killer?"

"Chuck, I just – "

"No, Blair, this isn't a debate. I've made my decision, and it's final."

"Okay, Chuck," Blair yielded. "Just be careful, okay?"

"You and Lily are always telling me to be careful."

"Maybe you should stop giving them reason to," commented Eric from the sofa.

"Shut up, Eric!"

I'm a confident liar  
Had my head in the oven so you'd know where I'll be  
I'll try to be more romantic  
I want to believe in everything you believe  
But I was less than amazing  
Do not know what all the troubles are for  
Fall asleep in your branches  
You're the only thing I ever want anymore

**Until next time – xoxo**


	25. Haunted

A/N: I really don't know how this got to over 6,500 words, but it somehow did. Also, I lied to you, you lovely readers, in one of my author's notes from a previous chapter, and whoever figures out what I lied about gets an extra apology! (Maybe even in poetry?) I hope you will trust me with this and with every other crazy thing I have written in this chapter, because there are a lot of twists and insanities going on here.

Here's to: merriment (hopefully this chapter will keep you on your toes!), anabelle12 (yay for fangirl squeals! your reviews are amazing ;), kauraREX (haha, your review was hilarious! the third person at the end was especially great...I've definitely had my share of crazy sleep deprivation :), RauhlPrincess (she didn't play that at mine either, but she made up for it with all of her amazingness!) Kathrynm37 (thank you so much! hope you keep enjoying the story!), and finally, livelovelaugh9704 (don't worry, we all know I have a twist planned for that ;)

I appreciate you all so much for reviewing! Not only do you read my wacky story, but you also take the extra time to write me with your thoughts about it! Thank you.

And without further ado, here is Chapter 25 (holy crap, have I really written that many?) - one that's full of surprises, the resurrection of familiar characters, and a whole lot of drama. XOXO

**Chapter 25: Haunted**

Don't cry  
There's always a way  
Here in November in this house of leaves  
We'll pray  
Please, I know it's hard to believe  
To see a perfect forest  
Through so many splintered trees  
You and me  
And these shadows keep on changing

-"Haunted" Poe

Mike refused the job. Chuck couldn't comprehend why; the starting price had been double Mike's usual rate, and he'd eventually offered to quadruple it, yet Mike was being infuriatingly obstinate, even going so far as to insist that Chuck drop the investigation into Russell's breakout completely. Chuck briefly considered hiring a different PI, but it didn't feel right, so instead he decided to look into the matter himself.

Many men of the law pledged to follow it, swearing to all that they would forever be upheld by morals, but Chuck knew better than to believe this ethical façade. Often, the ones who appeared to have the cleanest hands only did so because of the many times they had washed them of their grime. Their grubby fingers craved money and reached out to it, quivering at the possibility of the green paper being slipped between them, and if money didn't persuade them, there was something money could buy that did. Today, Chuck planned on Detective Thomas Crowley, a recent addition to the team from Kentucky, providing to him what he needed.

"Mr. Bass? Tom Crowley," said the detective, shaking Chuck's hand. "We was expectin' you. But I got to ask, to what do us at the precinct owe this mighty fine pleasure?"

"I'm simply interested in learning of the circumstances by which Russell Thorpe escaped prison," answered Chuck, his hands deep in the pockets of his wool overcoat. The wind was howling this morning, and he'd forgotten his scarf in his haste. The small piece of fabric clearly made a large impact, as Chuck was still warming himself after his brief walk to the police department.

"I see," said Tom Crowley, slightly frowning. "To be honest with ya, Mr. Bass, I'm not sure what I'm allowed to tell. The public ain't s'posed to know nothin' that ain't in the papers." The southern accent might have been endearing if his words had been different. Luckily, Chuck had incentives, and he was willing to place them on the table one by one until Crowley relented.

"Mr. Crowley –"

"Tom," he corrected. "And a man like me don't need the title mister."

"Tom," Chuck amended, his voice smooth and silky and his eyes appealingly genuine. "What can I do to make you change your mind?"

"Shucks, Mr. Bass, you ain't trying to bribe me, are ya?" Tom furrowed his blond brows and tried to look indignant, but after checking the room, he leaned in closer to Chuck and spoke in a whisper. "'Cuz if you was, I'd say I'd like some tickets to the Daytona 500 this year."

"Consider it done," Chuck said, trying to restrain his laughter at the grim nature in which the man had delivered his request.

"Well then, how's about you and me enter the private room and have a little chat?" Tom pointed in the direction of the interrogation room. "That's the only one without mikes," he added.

"Lead the way." Chuck followed as Tom took quick strides toward the room, pausing only to grab a couple of doughnuts and a cup of coffee.

"I eat one of these babies every day, but I somehow stay as skinny as a green bean." Tom chuckled and dug into his chocolate doughnut, handing the other to Chuck. "They's the best," he promised between mouthfuls. Chuck reluctantly ate a bite of the sugary breakfast treat and took the opportunity to pursue the issue at hand.

"Tom, what do you know about Russell's escape? Who was behind it? How did he manage to pass by the guards? Where did he get the clothes?"

"Woah there, Mr. Bass." Tom wiped the crumbs off of his chin with the sleeve of his shirt. "I can only answer one at a time."

"Okay," Chuck began again. "Let's start with you telling me everything you know. Then I'll ask questions."

"Alrighty," said Tom. "Here's what I know. Old Thorpe was in his cell, just sittin' there, watchin' a little TV, when the guards heard the ringing of the alarm. Somebody was outta his cell, roamin' the halls, and they figured it couldn't do no harm to leave Thorpe alone. He wasn't doin' nothin'. So they left for about six minutes, came back, and he was gone. We checked the cameras but they didn't pick up nothin' durin' those six minutes. Totally blank they was. Whoever was helpin' him must've been real smart, good with computers, ya know? We's not sure how he got outta the jail, but we's a thinkin' it was somebody on the inside, who wouldn't have attracted no suspicion by walkin' Thorpe around. Everybody in the jail's been questioned, but we's not sure of anythin' yet. His sidekick must've given him those clothes. And the briefcase –" Here Tom hesitated.

"What about the briefcase?"

"It had a gun and also some sorta papers in it," said Tom cryptically, scrutinizing his coffee cup.

"Papers?" Chuck pushed. "What kind? What did they say?"

"Well the first one I saw was black, and it had a round, swirly symbol right smack dab in the middle of it. The only other one was a scrap with an address on it." Tom looked down and picked at his stubby fingernails, and Chuck knew he was hoping that Chuck wouldn't ask the next obvious question, but his attempt was futile.

"What was the address?" Chuck asked. Tom gave Chuck a weary look and pulled out his notepad, where he had chronicled the events of the case, along with details, in his nearly unreadable chicken scratch.

"Here." Tom ripped a piece that contained the address of off the notepad and handed it to Chuck, along with an exact copy of the black and silver sheet. "I hope you find what you's a lookin' for, Mr. Bass."

…

"So what did you find out?" Blair sat at the island of the penthouse's kitchen, a pile of books to her right and her laptop to her left.

"I'm not sure exactly." Chuck sunk into the couch and was too dazed to even pour himself a glass of scotch. Thankfully, Blair did it for him.

"Perhaps I can help you decipher it," she suggested, handing him the drink. Chuck agreed and proceeded to relay all of the events of the time he spent with Tom and ended his story by giving her the two papers – the mysterious black and silver one and the one with the address.

"Anything?" asked Chuck, trying not to be too optimistic.

"Well, this address is in Brooklyn," she replied, "but you probably already knew that." At Chuck's nod, she continued. "As for this one, I must say it's going to be a lot harder to figure out."

"It just looks like a swirl to me." Chuck narrowed his eyes and tried to make something out of the shape, but it looked no more telling than it had before, and its tight spirals kept their secrets unrevealed.

"Give me a second," said Blair, rising from the couch and walking to Chuck's closet. Chuck traced her steps and observed her as she opened one of the topmost drawers in the corner of the spacious room and pulled out a pristine white box.

"What is that?" Chuck took a chance and reached for it, but as expected, Blair pressed it tightly to her chest.

"It's not sex toys if that's what you're thinking," she said, her mouth perking up despite the snappiness in her tone. She set it down on the center of the coffee table in the living room and carefully removed the lid. She pulled out binoculars, a cipher, a magnifying glass, a video camera, an audio recorder, and a few other items.

"You keep that in my closet?"

"There's one in my closet at Daddy's in France, Mother's in Paris, and I even keep one at Dorota's. None of them know, but I like to have a set with me at all times." She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly and pulled the black and silver paper up to the magnifying class, squinting her eyes as she studied it.

"You can't possibly think that's normal." Blair looked up from the glass to give him a withering glare and he laughed good-naturedly. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing. In fact, I think the female spy thing is very sexy."

"Do you?" she asked, largely ignoring him. Chuck, not liking the lack of attention, sunk to his knees and came up behind Blair's seated body, pressing his hot mouth on her neck and trailing slow kisses down the length of it.

"Yes," he answered softly, inwardly smiling at the slight tremble Blair gave when he touched her.

"And I thought you loved me for my brains," she remarked with smirk, holding up the paper.

"You know what it is?"

"I know it's made up of coded letters and numbers." She grabbed the cipher and magnifying glass and rotated the paper around in order to decode the cryptic message. "November 28th," she read. "9 P.M. at the usual place. Remember, Arcanum is king."

"What the hell?" Chuck finished off his scotch and got up to make another.

"Well the 28th is tomorrow night, and I'm going to assume that the address we were given is the 'usual place' the invitation mentioned."

"And 'Arcanum is king'? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Arcanum is Latin, and I'm almost positive it means a secret known to a select few. Wherever Thorpe was going, it must have been some sort of secret meeting," Blair deduced, already knowing that Chuck would want to go and nervous that he would get himself hurt or worse.

"I have to go, Blair," Chuck said, as if reading her thoughts.

"Then I'm going with you." She stuck up her chin and dared him to disagree.

"No."

"Yes! Who else would you take? You're not going alone!"

"Nate will go with me," Chuck answered decisively, coming up with a name on the spot. He knew he could trust Nate with anything, but then again…

"Nate has a bigger mouth than Perez Hilton after he's knocked back a few Cosmos," said Blair with a derisive snort. "And besides, he isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, is he?"

"Blair –"

"If you're going, so am I. We're in this together Chuck," she told him seriously. "It's you and me, okay?" Chuck was silent for a few moments.

"Okay," he eventually said. "So long as you never leave my side."

"I wouldn't even if you asked me to," she answered.

…

"Serena, please listen to reason!" Nate pleaded, tugging on Serena's hand and leading her away from her closet. "Stop packing for a minute and listen to me!"

"So you're the voice of reason now?" she asked skeptically, continuing to fold a tunic into a neat square.

"Yeah, I guess I am, considering I'm not the one who wants to go to fucking Africa!"

"Nate, I have to do this, okay? I just do." Serena threw open her suitcase and began stuffing airy shirts and cutoffs into it.

"No you don't. You belong in New York, at school, with your friends and your family. And most of all, you belong with me." Nate took her hand again, this time more lovingly.

"Nate, it's done. The plane's booked, and I've already signed up with an organization in Kenya, where I'm going to work on building a water system through remote villages."

"Serena, this is insane," he said, wishing she could see what a big mistake she was making. Dropping out of school was bad enough, but sacrificing the best years of her life, years that she should be spending with the people who loved her? It was far too much for a nineteen year old who was frankly not responsible enough to handle going to Africa on her own, no matter how noble her intentions. But that was the issue Nate suffered the most umbrage by. Serena's intentions really weren't all that noble, and she was primarily going for the purpose of feeling better about herself.

"If Blair's already resigned herself to my going, I think you should understand that you are going to have to too." She held up a cheetah print maxi dress to her frame and frowned. "I think this might be too much," she muttered to herself, hanging it back up.

"I'm begging you; think about what you're actually doing and why you're doing it. Do you really want to sleep in huts or tents, surrounded by bugs and wild animals? Do you really want to go days without bathing or eat foods like rice and yams for every single meal?"

"See, this is exactly why I'm going!" shouted Serena. "Because people think I can't handle it, that I can't do anything meaningful for other people without worrying about myself the whole time!"

"Listen to yourself," said Nate quietly. "Consider what you just said."

"Get out, Nate. I want you out," she ordered coldly. "I have a lot of packing to do, and I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Fine, but, Serena, I have one more thing to say."

"What's that? That you love me and you really want me to stay?" she jeered, despite her qualms about being this harsh to Nate. It's just that she had continuously worried that if she didn't concentrate her energy on being horrible to him, then he really would convince her to stay.

"No. That you need to grow up," said Nate, stomping out of her bedroom and down the stairs.

"That's what I'm doing!" she yelled after him. After her ears were met with only silence, she asked herself a deceivingly simply-phrased question.

"Isn't it?"

…

Eric didn't know how he got himself into these situations. Well, he supposed he did, in the moments when he was completely honest with himself. It was Jonathon's fault, Jonathon, with whom he had reconnected over the summer and who was now the cause of Eric's plight in the acting studio to which he had been dragged. While he was all for Jonathon pursuing his interest in television and film, he found Jonathon's reasoning that he should come along and participate as well ("just for the fun of it" Jonathon had said) quite flimsy. This wasn't fun. It wasn't even close to fun, and Eric was spending the vast majority of his time shooting daggers at Jonathon, threatening looks that told him he would pay for this.

"Next," said the instructor, a woman by the name of Judy Jennings. Eric didn't realize it was him she was referring to until he was given a gentle nudge by one of the other actors. "Name?"

"Eric van der Woodsen."

"Age?"

"Eighteen."

"You're young," she said, appraising him. "Good looks, too, and I believe the van der Woodsen name is well known in the entertainment industry because of the donations you all give to the theatre."

"My mom's a big fan of opera, and my sister likes going to Broadway shows sometimes." Eric wasn't sure she wanted an answer from him, but he was the kind of person who liked to fill uncomfortable silence.

"And you, Eric? What do you enjoy?"

"Movies," said Eric honestly. "Especially the classics and my favorite is _Casablanca_." She gave him what Eric interpreted as an approving glance.

"Next."

"Charlie Rhodes, twenty," said the girl to Eric's left. He briefly wondered whether she could be related to him before remembering that Aunt Carol had never mentioned a daughter before, and it was highly unlikely that she could be a member of the family if even his grandmother hadn't spoken of her.

"Rhodes? Are you by any chance related to Ms. van der Woodsen, well Humphrey now I suppose?"

"Yes, actually," she responded, astonishing Eric with her answer and explanation. "Eric, I'm Carol's daughter, and I know we've never met before, and honestly when we did, I thought it would be with my mom, but yeah. We're cousins, and I'm now relieved to have met you first knowing that you're an actor too." She grinned at Eric when she was done, and after mumbling an excuse to the instructor, he pulled her aside to find some answers about this secret cousin of his.

"I don't understand how you can be my cousin, yet I've never heard of you." He kept his tone light, hoping that a warm reception might be beneficial in getting her to open up more.

"My mom wanted to protect me from you all," she said. "She never even told me about you until about a month ago, and she only mentioned bad things." Charlie's eyes were apologetic.

"Okay, so I guess I understand why she would want to keep you from us. The van der Woodsen / Bass / Humphrey family isn't exactly the Brady bunch of Manhattan, not to mention your mom and mine can't stand each other, but why did she choose to tell you when she did?"

"I don't know." Charlie chewed her thumbnail, contemplating the question. "I really don't."

…

Vanessa was in much better spirits than she had been in a long time. Not only was Dan's book about to be published (he'd already been sent the first copy), but also, she felt immense pride in knowing that she was the catalyst who rolled everything into place. She may not have kept a penny of the money from the sale of the manuscript, but the manager of the agency offered her a job, which she gratefully accepted, eager to get out of unemployment and help her sister pay rent. Besides, she loved to read, almost as much as she loved making movies, and as if that wasn't incentive enough, she would get to pan all of the ones she despised, mercilessly cutting them down in the rejection letters she would send to disappointed authors. For once, she felt powerful, powerful enough to venture out of the Brooklyn boroughs and into Manhattan. She should have known better than to assume she wouldn't see anyone she knew.

"Vanessa, is that you?"

"Hi, Rufus," she said, feigning a smile. It's not that she didn't want to see Rufus; it was that she didn't want to see anyone connected to Rufus. "And Jenny, hi."

"Hello Vanessa." Jenny put a polite smile on her face as well, but Vanessa could see through it. Jenny was no more pleased to see her than she was to see Jenny.

"So, what brings you to town?" Vanessa asked, noticing Rufus' expectant look. He apparently had no idea that she and Jenny hadn't been close in a long time.

"I'm checking out design schools," she answered, genuinely looking forward to it. "I have a tour at Parson's tomorrow."

"Cool." Vanessa looked down at her high tops and wished they would leave, but with Rufus, she knew that was unlikely to occur.

"You know, Vanessa, I think Dan misses you," Rufus said.

"Probably about as much as he misses getting wedgies from the lacrosse team his freshman year of high school," said Vanessa bitterly. She had pledged to love Dan no more, yet she was finding it much more difficult than she anticipated. You couldn't just stop loving someone by saying the words.

"I'm sure whatever act he's pulling, he'll eventually come around," Jenny put in. "We all know Dan can be a real dick sometimes."

"Jenny!" Rufus looked surprised that his darling daughter would say such a thing about his equally precious son, but Vanessa just chuckled in agreement.

"Thanks, Jen. I hope you're right. So are you avoiding the Upper East Side like I am?" she asked, not knowing how touchy the subject was with Jenny but curious to know how she was feeling about being in the same city as Chuck and Blair.

"On the contrary, I've decided to go speak with Chuck and Blair about what happened. I've come to terms with it, and I hope that they will too if they haven't already." Vanessa hadn't noticed it before, but she did now. Jenny was carrying herself with more confidence than she had ever seen, and her face was no longer caked in makeup, her eyes were coated with only a bit of mascara, and her hair was all natural and reached just below her shoulders. She looked like an older version of the freshman Jenny.

"Wow that takes some guts," said Vanessa. "You look really good by the way, Jenny. Hudson served you well."

"It did," Jenny agreed. "I feel more myself than I have since the beginning of high school. I'm a lot stronger than I used to be."

"That's great." Vanessa smiled for real this time. She did miss having a friend, and maybe being a loner wasn't what she wanted after all. "Hey, Jen, do you think you might want to hang out one day while you're here?"

"Yeah, sure." At Rufus' insistence that they were going to miss their reservation for lunch, Jenny left, but she waved goodbye with a pleasant smile on her face.

Things kept looking up for Vanessa.

…

For all her talk about being stronger now, Jenny was still a bit nervous about going to The Empire, where everything had happened and where she knew Chuck and Blair would be. She hadn't talked to Serena yet, but Eric informed her that Chuck and Blair weren't exactly in a relationship at the moment, but that they had never needed labels for what they had. They were just as in love as ever, he said, and Jenny was genuinely pleased to hear it. She couldn't bear the idea of the mistake she made with Chuck being what ended the epic saga that was and always had been Chuck and Blair. She took a deep breath as the elevator opened and she entered the penthouse.

"Chuck?" she called out apprehensively. "Blair?"

"Jenny?" Blair took in Jenny's appearance and nodded slightly. "God, you look so much better than you did before. Those raccoon eyes were dreadful." Jenny couldn't help but giggle at Blair, who never seemed to change.

"Yeah, I figured that out. It just took me a little while."

"Jenny, I didn't know you were in town." Chuck entered the room and immediately stood next to Blair, putting an arm around her delicate waist. "What's the occasion?" His tone wasn't unfriendly by any means, just more formal than she was accustomed to.

"School shopping," she answered. "Parson's is my number one at the moment, and I'm touring there tomorrow."

"With your talent, I'm sure you'll get in, but if you're worried, my mother is friends with Tim Gunn, and she can probably pull some strings." Blair's offer was unexpected to say the least, and Jenny would have doubted it if it wasn't for the complete lack of frostiness in Blair's brown eyes.

"Oh my God, Blair, thank you so much."

"It's no burden. So, anyway, now we know what you're doing in the city, but what are you doing here?" asked Blair gently. She didn't like the reminders of the past, but she figured that was the cause of Jenny's visit. She could remember how shattered she'd felt when she learned of what happened in the short time during her chase from the hospital to the Empire State Building and finally the penthouse.

_The look of guilt on Chuck's face and the tears on Jenny's horrified and devastated her, breaking her into bits and pieces of rage and depression and shock. Chuck was trying to explain, to make an excuse for his actions like he always did. She couldn't bear to listen, but she recognized "Jenny" in a portion of his pathetic apology._

"_Don't say her name!" Blair screamed. "Or anything else to me ever again!"_

Now Blair felt as if her reaction had stemmed mostly from her residual anger and resentment at Chuck for the debacle with Jack. She hadn't been ready to move forward, and Jenny gave her an excuse to run away in the opposite direction, covering her eyes and ears and not looking back. Yes, she was hurt by it, but upon reflection, she understood that Jenny and Chuck were both so broken and alone that they believed only additional hurt could cure their pain. Chuck loved her, and Jenny loved Nate, and neither thought that the object of their love felt the same way. It was rather tragic, looking at it that way.

"I just wanted to apologize," said Jenny, confirming Blair's prediction but in an unexpected manner. "I was, like, totally depressed and drugged up, but I still should have known better, and what's worse is I acted like it was all Chuck's fault, even though I knew that wasn't true."

"Jenny –" Chuck started to cut her off, but she wasn't finished.

"I'm sorry that I helped tear you guys apart when you should have been coming back together, and I would take it back if I could. It took me a while, but I've forgiven you and myself, and I hope you can forgive me too."

"I know I have," said Blair, pulling Jenny into an embrace. "I understand it was no one's fault."

"I'm sorry too, Jenny." Chuck stood back as the girls hugged and kept his eyes downcast. "I was older, and I shouldn't have let it happen."

"Neither of us should feel guilty." Chuck looked up and saw that Jenny seemed to be sincere. "Seriously, Chuck. I've moved past it."

Chuck nodded, and the three managed to have a better-than-decent night. Blair and Jenny talked about fashion and what had happened to all of the bitches in Jenny's grade, and Jenny told them about her time in Hudson and how much she was enjoying it. Chuck didn't say much, but he was glad of the warmness and mutual respect he saw Blair and Jenny had for each other. He knew what it meant to have forgiveness, to atone for past errors. He knew that people's biggest mistakes, the moments when they least deserved forgiveness, were the ones they most needed forgiveness for. But most of all, he knew what it was like to be loved by Blair, and if Jenny could manage to cultivate sisterly affection, her life would be much better. Life was always better with Blair's love.

…

The next morning, Nate was anxious. He hadn't heard a thing from Serena, and he didn't know what to think. Was she still furious with him because of what he said, and she didn't want to give him the courtesy of saying a proper goodbye? Or had she not called because she knew he was right, and she didn't want to admit it? Would he never see her again, or would he see her walking around the next street over tomorrow, pretending like she didn't see him when he knew she did? It was all too much for his brain to handle.

"Hey Nate," Eric said tiredly, entering Nate's office at a sluggish pace.

"Eric, I don't mean to be rude, and you know I love when you visit, but –"

"What am I doing here?"

"Well yeah." Nate sat back in his soft, leather chair and put his legs on his desk, crossing them comfortably.

"It's my long-lost cousin, Charlie. Now that she's been found, she won't leave me the heck alone!" Eric sighed in frustration and took the seat in front of Nate's desk. Before Nate could answer, there was a knock on the door.

"Yeah?" called Nate, annoyed that his intercom hadn't been fixed yet.

"It's Charlie. Is Eric in there? Lily told me he might be here." Eric, after hearing the voice, vigorously shook his head mouthing an order that Nate needed to answer in the negative, but Nate, in dire need of entertainment, didn't listen.

"Come on in." Nate was surprised when he saw Charlie. He wasn't surprised that she was beautiful, she was related to Serena after all, but she looked pretty different from what he remembered of Carol. "So you're Charlie?"

"The one and only," she said with a laugh. "And you're Nate, Serena's boyfriend."

"The one and only Nate, and hopefully the one and only Serena's boyfriend," quipped Nate. He had no idea whether he was her boyfriend anymore, but he definitely wasn't going to be the first to deny it.

"I only saw Serena for like three seconds, but she seems nice," said Charlie. "As is her brother, my fellow actor here." She elbowed Eric and laughed again. Eric tried to smile and looked only vaguely annoyed with his cousin. Maybe he should be an actor, thought Nate.

"I'm not really an actor, Charlie, like I said before."

"So what's going on with Serena?" Charlie asked, either not hearing or not paying attention to Eric's remark.

"She's going to Africa," Nate managed to answer, knowing his voice sounded strained.

"Really?" Charlie's eyes were wide. "It didn't sound like she was going to Africa when I saw her this morning."

"What are you talking about?" Eric asked. "I haven't seen her at all today."

"Well, it was super early, about five," said Charlie, then noting Nate and Eric's expressions, she clarified. "I'm used to waking up early for my job, so I happened to be awake when Serena came into the kitchen. She looked surprised to see me, but she didn't really say anything, then some guy came to get her and they left together."

"Some guy?" Nate tried to sound less panicky than he felt.

"Yeah, I'm trying to remember his name. He had brown hair, and they hugged and seemed fairly close."

"What was it? What was his name, Charlie?"

"Oh, I remember!" she exclaimed, pleased with herself. "His name was Carter!"

…

Vanessa was angry; no, angry didn't begin to cover it. She was furious, livid even. Jenny had promised to meet her for brunch, but she'd bailed at the last minute, offering up some lame excuse about being tired and needing to rest before her tour at Parson's. Vanessa was completely understanding about it until she saw the Gossip Girl blast.

**Gossip Girl: Looks like Little J has returned to NYC, and she's already back on top. Breakfasting with the resident King and Queen of the UES? My, my, Little J, you're no court jester anymore. Let's see how long this lady will stay in royal favor. You know you love me.**

Every time she received a blast, Vanessa wondered why she subscribed to that ridiculous website, one that served no purpose other than inflating the egos of the already egotistical by dedicating itself to reporting about their lives, but this time, she was glad. She was glad to know that Jenny was still a liar, glad to know that Jenny still wanted to be a part of the elite crowd. Vanessa obviously still wasn't good enough for her, and while it hurt, it was better than a lie.

"Is this seat taken?" Vanessa looked up and was actually pleased with who she saw.

"Scott, hey! How long have you been in town?"

"Not long," he said, smiling at the girl he once dated. He might have been Lily and Rufus' child, but he didn't regret his decision to leave the Upper East Side.

"Are you here visiting your parents?" She wasn't sure if they had been communicating at all since Scott left to return to his adoptive parents, and she couldn't recall Rufus or Lily ever mentioning him in the few months she had been dating Dan this year.

"No, I'm visiting my girlfriend," he explained. "She goes to Columbia."

"Columbia, really? That's awesome," said Vanessa.

"Yeah, she loves it there. I met her at an environmental protection rally over the summer, and we spent a couple weeks building for Habitat for Humanity after that."

"Sounds like my kind of girl." Vanessa was happy to see that Scott seemed to be in a good place. She knew that with parents like Rufus and Lily, who didn't know him for the first two decades of his life, and also with his crazy adoptive parents, who lied about who he was, it must be difficult to feel familial love. If Scott could find bliss with his girlfriend, she was all for it.

"She's amazing," he said. "I'm thinking of moving to the city just to be with her."

"Nice," said Vanessa. "So are you working or would you have to transfer schools?"

"I graduated in three years, and now I'm working as an accountant. It's not a dream job, but it pays for my apartment." His phone rang and he immediately pulled it out of his pocket to answer. "Hi, Juliet. Sure, I'll be there in ten."

"So her name is Juliet?" asked Vanessa when Scott hung up.

"Juliet Sharpe," answered Scott proudly. "And she's perfect."

…

"Are you ready for this?" Blair's heart was beating uncomfortably fast, and she didn't like that her palms were sweaty. It wasn't like her to be afraid; she was Blair Waldorf, for God's sake, and she had Chuck Bass by her side, but she couldn't help it. She was scared.

"No, but we're going anyway." At least he'd said we. Blair, after making sure her palm was wiped dry, slipped her hand into Chuck's, and both knocked on the door of the extremely grand brownstone in Brooklyn. A portion, only large enough for a pair of eyes to see through, slid open.

"Invitation?" the eyes asked. Chuck held it up, and the door opened. As soon as they entered, they saw that this was no meeting, or if it was, it was the kind of business Blair wanted no part of. Girls were clad in skimpy, identical black dresses, lounging in the laps of men, young and old, who were dressed in sharp suits.

"Interested in a friend, sir?" asked one of the skanks, fluttering her eyelashes.

"He's got a friend," snapped Blair, moving closer to Chuck to assert her ownership.

"Perhaps you'd like to be seen to a room then? Somewhere nice and private?"

"Yes, we'd love to see the rooms, all of them in fact," said Chuck.

"This way, please." They followed the tall brunette through half a dozen rooms, coming up with a reason to say no every time, since none were able to give them any answers as to why Russell would be interested in going to a place like this.

"You know what? I think we need to check out the occupied ones." Their hostess barely reacted, and Blair assumed she was used to strange requests considering her industry.

"She likes to watch," added Chuck, observing Blair as she strut away and opened doors at random whenever she paused.

When their inspection of the second floor proved fruitless, the hostess said she had to return to the main floor and left them to their own devices.

"You take this floor, and I'll take the fourth?" Blair proposed. After Chuck agreed, she climbed the staircase, taking quiet steps. Perhaps that was why they hadn't found anything yet. They were being too obvious about looking.

"I'm not running some low class escort service here," Blair heard a British voice say. "This is how I make a living, and you're not going to give me any less than I deserve!"

"Chill, Diana. You'll get your money." She knew that voice. It was no shock to her that Jack was at a place like this, but why was he offering the owner money? "We appreciate your cooperation and the discreetness with which you've handled this delicate situation." Now Blair was even more confused. Who was the 'we' Jack spoke of, and what was the 'delicate situation' he had gotten himself into?

"Yes, well, for that reason, I expect double the rate we discussed."

"Jesus, are you trying to bankrupt me?"

"No, and I believe what I'm asking is reasonable compensation for what I've done."

"You're ridiculous, woman, but I suppose I can't deny a lady anything." Blair heard a third voice murmur something, but she couldn't make out the words, and it wasn't loud enough for her to place the voice.

"But Thorpe's dead now. I don't see what the rush is."

"She's just saying that because she wants more money, but she does have a point. Why do you have to go out on a boat tomorrow?" After Jack's question, the voice spoke again, but she still couldn't hear it properly.

"Yeah, Chuck's been digging, but he's not going to find anything. We've been too careful for that to happen." Whatever Diana, Jack, and the third voice were discussing, it involved Chuck.

"You have nothing to worry about," seconded Diana.

"Yes I do, damn it!"

Blair had to stop herself from crying out. It was Bart's voice. But that wasn't possible, she reasoned. He was dead and had been for almost two years, yet she knew it was him, and Jack's answer confirmed it.

"Whoa there, brother, calm down. Your son may be a chip off the old block, but he would never be warped enough to connect anything to you."

"Russell escaped after finding out I was alive. Who's to say the same person that informed him won't inform Chuck too?"

"Because if what happened to Russell is any indication, they won't have the guts."

"Jack, that was an accident," countered Bart. "Albeit a convenient one."

"But the squealer doesn't know that."

"I'm going, regardless," Bart declared, leaving no room for argument. It was a tone Blair occasionally heard from Chuck.

"Let's go to my office then," said Diana. "It's on the third floor, so we'll have to be alert going down." Blair then realized that if they left the room, they would see her, and she began to backtrack toward the staircase. When she reached the third floor, she snatched Chuck's arm and pulled him into a small room, locking the door behind them.

"Chuck, you've got to see something," she said breathlessly.

"What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Heard one, in fact," she said with a strange, alien laugh.

"Blair, what happened?" She covered Chuck's mouth with her hand and signaled for him to stay quiet as three sets of footsteps went by. When they were gone, she spoke.

"Come on." Without explaining any of her words or actions, Blair dragged Chuck along to the just-closed door on the third floor. "Kick it open," she said.

"Are you sure it's locked?"

"I heard it click."

Chuck took a deep breath and kicked with all his strength. The door was flung open by the force, and all three inhabitants of the room gasped, as did Chuck, who looked unsteady on his feet.

"Dad?"

"Oh my God."

Come here  
No I won't say please  
One more look at the ghost  
Before I'm gonna make it leave  
Come here  
I've got the pieces here  
Time to gather up the splinters  
Build a casket for my tears

**Until next time – xoxo**


	26. Shake it Out

A/N: YES I am alive! SO, SO sorry for the long wait, but I hope you like the chapter! P.S. Are you loving season six as much as I am? :)

**Chapter 26: Shake it Out**

And I've been a fool and I've been blind  
I can never leave the past behind  
I can see no way, I can see no way  
I'm always dragging that horse around

Our love is pastured such a mournful sound  
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground  
So I like to keep my issues strong  
But it's always darkest before the dawn

-"Shake it Out" Florence + The Machine

It had seemed like a sign when Carter called at the exact moment she was putting her suitcase in the back of her closet. She knew that Nate was right, but it still felt like she was stowing away a chance of adventure, and it may have been a while before her adventurous side saw the light of day had Carter not told her of his resignation at the Buckley family's oil reserve. She was the first person he'd called and he wanted to see her, and though Serena was a bit wary of the danger that always surrounded him, it was part of what pulled her in – her lightness gorged itself on his shadows. Besides, they'd had good times together in the past, and Carter opened her up to new experiences. She had already contacted Columbia about taking the spring semester off and finishing the work of the remaining few weeks of the fall semester online, so she figured she should take advantage of the break from school.

"So where exactly are we going?" she asked Carter, clutching his waist as they rode a motorcycle through the streets of the tiny, rural neighborhood they were currently passing through. He had purchased the bike after their cab dropped them off on the outskirts of a town in the central part of New York State. All they had with them was Serena's purse (which contained snacks and a set of extra clothing for both of them), some cash, a camera, and an untraceable, disposable cell phone.

"No idea," Carter replied easily. "And that's the best part." Serena was inclined to agree. She felt so free being away from Manhattan, not concentrating on deadlines or destinations but on the journey. She could just _be._

"You're absolutely right." She giggled as the wind whipped her locks into a flurry of spun gold thread, and Carter leaned his head back to give her a quick grin.

"North or south, van der Woodsen?" he asked playfully. "I hear it's just grand in Vermont this time of year."

"Vermont is not happening. We're going as far south as we can get, because I need some warm, sunny weather." She slid her sunglasses on and closed her eyes, already imagining her skin turning tan as it soaked up the rays.

"Your wish is my command."

…

After the initial shock of seeing Bart subsided, Blair left Chuck alone with his father and now sat in a hallway flanked by Jack and Diana.

"You're looking fine tonight, Miss Waldorf."

"Don't even start with me, Jack," she bit out, tense with worry. She wasn't in the mood for the antics of Jack Bass, especially since all he ever seemed to do was cause her trouble.

"And you've regained that feisty edge," he said, nodding in approval. "I was worried Chuck sucked that out of you."

"She must have sucked it back in," said Diana with a wink in Jack's direction. He burst out laughing.

"Tell us, Blair? Is my dear nephew enjoying your intimate company once more?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business," said Blair shortly.

"Oh, you know us Bass men. We're so tight that the business of one is the business of all." He smirked and stood to languidly pace back and forth through the hall, stroking his goatee as he dragged his feet.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Don't tell me you've lost your wicked sense of humor." Jack stopped and studied her mien of grave frostiness. "On second thought, with that look I don't need to be told the answer."

"I'll bet that's a first," said Diana, crossing her legs while she applied another coat of deep fuchsia lipstick.

"That was weak," chided Jack lightly, raising his brows. "You can do better."

"That's what I was going to tell you last night, but I decided to spare your feelings." Diana didn't look up from her compact mirror as she slid her lips together, spreading the berry color to entirely cover her plump lips. "Because not only are you weak, but you're soft too." Jack applauded loudly and laughed at Diana's clever heckling, and even Blair couldn't resist a small chuckle.

"Now, that is what I'm talking about!" Jack blew Diana a kiss and returned to his seat beside Blair. "Now, Blair, you must have a few insults to throw at me as well, and they are probably more warranted than the ones I received from the cougar on your right."

"None that you haven't heard before," she sighed, taking out her cell and hoping he would leave her in peace.

"Well, it's not every day I trick someone into trading sex for a hotel," taunted Jack, his eyes glinting. "I'm sure you have some creative ones in that pretty head of yours."

"Tempting with hooks like that will only catch you Basses, Jack," rebuked Blair. "Waldorfs, however, are not taken to quarreling with just a little verbal jab. Don't forget, I'm a Waldorf."

"Not for long, I'd presume, and if that weren't enough, we all know you get off on revenge." Blair remained silent and gave him another cold glare.

"I like you more and more," Diana announced, turning to Blair. "You, too, realize that Jack is like a detestable animal, best left alone to amuse himself. All he needs is a lot of porn and a little food every few hours."

"And a car magazine," added Blair with a laugh, remember a story Chuck told her about finding a thick stack of _Road and Track_ in the top drawer of the nightstand in Jack's hotel room. "I think he likes spending quality time with those too."

"The Jaguars do fire me up." Jack grinned, thinking of the black convertible he had test driven on the previous Tuesday.

"But not more than cougars, I imagine," Blair said with a tilting smirk.

"There she is," declared Jack loudly, pointing at Blair. "There's my clever Blair Waldorf, soon to be Bass."

"Why do you keep saying that?" asked Blair, rolling her eyes. Jack stood again and resumed his pacing. He didn't meet her eyes when he answered.

"I just have a feeling it's going to happen soon."

"Why so enigmatic, Jack? What do you know?" Blair demanded. When Jack finally looked at her, she could have sworn she saw pity in his expression.

"Nothing." He stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "Do you think father and son are almost done with their happy reunion? I'm beat."

"I don't know," answered Blair, observing his discomfort and desire to change the subject. "This conversation isn't over though, Jack."

"Yeah, yeah. You know, your persistence is disturbingly Bass-like."

"In that case, _you _know that, like a Bass, I'll also get what I want in the end, which means I'll find out whatever it is that you're hiding."

"That's what I'm afraid of," muttered Jack under his breath, his words escaping Blair's ears.

…

"I suppose I understand why you left. I wish I had known it was because of Russell, though. Then the whole catastrophe I went through this year wouldn't have happened," said Chuck, appraising his father. The elder Bass looked like a carbon copy of the Bart of two years past with the exception of a few more lines on his face. His eyes were still as unreadable and icy blue as ever. "But what I don't get is why you thought you had to leave tonight."

"Someone told Russell about me. How do I know whether or not he'll try to finish what Russell started?" Bart glanced out the window, and his lips twisted into a grimace. "My God, I don't know what to think, and I can't trust anyone."

"You can trust me. And you can trust Blair and Lily too." Chuck leaned against the wall and hunched his back into the concave head of a spoon. He was determined not to lose his father for a second time, because while Bart hadn't been the best parent by a long shot, they were family, tied irrevocably by blood and time.

"Chuck, I did all of this to keep you and Lily safe." Bart placed a hand on the cool window, and a translucent, gray print formed on the glass. "I can't involve you now. It's exactly what I wanted to avoid."

"I've been involved for a while now." Chuck straightened his posture and walked over to the window. "Dad, you can't do this alone, and I'm not going to let you leave right after finding out you're alive."

"What are you suggesting?" asked Bart.

"That you come back with a vengeance and tell everyone the truth." At Chuck's statement, Bart finally turned from the window to face him.

"The truth?" he echoed doubtfully.

"Think about it," Chuck said. "The entire country already knows Thorpe went off the deep end and tried to kill Nate and Blair, so it's not like anyone will doubt what actually happened. Come back, give an exclusive to 60 Minutes, and it will be over."

"You make a good point," Bart admitted. He paused a moment and then nodded. "Okay, I'll resume my life as Bart Bass, but with one condition."

"What's the condition?" asked Chuck apprehensively.

"That you let me try to make these past two years up to you," said Bart. "Actually, now that I think about it, the condition is that you let me try to make these past nineteen and a half years up to you. I wasn't the father you deserved, but you can be Goddamn sure that I'm going to be now."

…

"Why won't she answer?" barked Nate, releasing his frustration out on Eric. It had been over twenty-four hours since Serena headed off with Carter, and he hadn't been able to get ahold of her. He had also tried calling every five star hotel in New York but came up empty.

"For the trillionth time, Nate, I don't know." Eric flipped through the _Sport's Illustrated _Nate had on his desk and rolled his eyes. "Do have anything less mind numbing for me to read?"

"How can you read at a time like this?" Nate shouted, snatching the magazine and tossing it against the wall. "I have to find Serena!"

"Well, acting like a spaz isn't going to help," Eric pointed out. "Why don't you relax and let her be? She'll come home eventually, like she always does."

"What's going on in here?" Chuck poked his head in the door to Nate's office and was immediately concerned upon seeing Nate's rumpled clothing, unshaven face, and distraught demeanor.

"Chuck, thank goodness! Hopefully you can talk some sense into your best friend."

"And if he can't, I'm sure I can," said Blair, following in behind Chuck. She carried a bag of muffins and set them on the desk after clearing off a square of the ebony wood.

"It's Serena," moaned Nate. "She ran off with Carter, I have no idea where she is, and she won't answer her phone!"

"Baizen?" growled Chuck, remembering the time Carter had spent with Blair her senior year of high school. "I can't stand that guy."

"Oh come on, he's not all that bad." Blair bit into one of the lemon poppy seed muffins and shrugged at Chuck and Nate's baffled and slightly revolted expressions. "What? He's always been caring toward Serena, and I think he's carried a torch for her since our junior year. It's not like he'd do anything to hurt her."

"Blair, we're talking about Carter Baizen, the guy who swindled me, and indirectly Chuck, out of thousands of dollars, who stole stuff from Chuck's place, who –"

"Okay, Nate, I get it," said Blair, raising her arms in defeat. "Whatever. But just know that I want no part of your little I-Hate-Carter-Baizen Club."

"I thought you would be on my side!" Nate exclaimed, collapsing onto his chair and slamming his head flat on the desk.

"Has he been like this all day?" Blair whispered to Eric, her amusement mirroring his own.

"Unfortunately for me, because I feel like he'll do something even stupider than usual if I leave him by himself," Eric answered.

"She's ruined me!" Nate suddenly wailed, wallowing in his woe. "She's ruined me for everyone else, forever!"

"Funny, that's what I said about Chuck."

"Why is that funny? I'm in pain!"

"It's just that this family seems to cause more than their fair share of heartache," said Blair. "They're life ruiners, all of them."

"Except me," Eric said, stepping forward. "I'm the perfect one, the anomaly of the van der Bass clan."

"Jonathon," Blair countered. "It took him weeks to get you back, and he was crushed when you kept rejecting him." Before Eric could respond indignantly, Blair's cellphone rang. She didn't recognize the number but answered regardless.

"Hello?"

_"Hey, B, it's Serena."_Blair knew as soon as she saw Nate's anticipative expression that she had to lie about who was on the phone. If he knew it was Serena, he would want to talk to her. Blair reasoned that there was probably a reason Serena called her instead of Nate, not to mention, he would only be more miserable if Serena told him she wasn't ready to return home.

"Yes, Mother, hold on just a minute," said Blair quickly, leaving Nate's office.

_"Who are you with?"_

"I was with Nate, Chuck, and Eric, but I gave them the slip with my usual excuse."

_"You use that one all the time. I can't believe they're still so gullible." _Serena laughed, and Blair didn't know if it was just the phone line making it sound so unnatural.

"S, you know I love you, but what were you thinking leaving like that?" she asked, her brows drawn together with worry.

_"I wasn't really thinking at all, B."_

"Did something happen, S?"

_"I already know what you're going to say," _Serena sighed, paltering as she told the story. Blair could tell Serena was withholding information, and she didn't like the deceitfulness.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Blair snapped.

_"Um, I ditched the hotel Carter and I were staying at in the middle of the night and took the bus until it reached its last stop, and now, I don't really know where I am."_ The words came out in a garbled mess.

"Serena," said Blair slowly, staying patient and keeping her tongue from lashing out at her friend. "Have you tried asking anyone?"

_"Oh, I guess I should do that. Hold on a second." _Serena came back on after a few moments. _"Blair, you'll never guess where I am!"_

"Mars?" asked Blair sarcastically.

_"Waldorf! I'm in Waldorf, Maryland! Isn't that hilarious?"_

"I'm bursting at the seams."

_"B, lighten up a little."_

"You're the one who seems to be going through some kind of personal crisis! Why did you call, Serena?" huffed Blair, her irascibility rearing its ugly head.

_"I'll tell you, but not over the phone."_

"Are you suggesting I travel to Maryland? Because your step-brother happens to be going through a crisis as well, and he needs me here."

_"What's going on with Chuck? Is he all right?"_

"He's fine physically, but emotionally…" Blair paused. "Right now, it's like that stinging sensation you get when you rip off a Band-Aid. It will fade, but we're all kind of spinning in a whirlwind of consternation at the moment."

_"What happened?"_

"It's Bart. He's alive," said Blair bluntly.

_"You're joking," _replied Serena, just as brusque and dispassionate.

"Serena, I may have a dark mind, but even I wouldn't be able to come up with that one. So for God's sake, get your ass back to New York!"

_"B… I – I can't, not yet at least." _Blair's concern returned as she heard the timorousness in Serena's voice.

"Serena, you can tell me anything, remember? We're sisters."

_"Just get here, okay?" _Blair was stunned into silence as Serena abruptly hung up and the dial tone rang in her ears.

"Serena Celia van der Woodsen," Blair whispered to the blaring stream of sound, "what the hell have you gotten yourself into?"

…

"So how was your mother?" asked Chuck when Blair returned to the office.

"Oh, um fine," she fibbed, shifting her eyes from his face. "It wasn't anything important."

"Good." Chuck placed his gaze back on Nate and crossed his arms. "Regrettably, our friend Nate here isn't so fine."

"Nate," said Blair gently, her gait becoming more cautious with every step. "I'm going to fix this, okay? Don't worry anymore."

"How?" Nate yowled, his voice breaking. "How can you?"

"Don't worry," Blair repeated, taking Nate's hand and eluding the question. "Calm down, and let me do the work."

"Yeah, man, just let Blair handle this one," Chuck said. "Keep working on _The Spectator,_ and she'll have it solved in no time."

It took a few more minutes of coaxing, but eventually Nate was persuaded to stay out of Blair's way as she attempted to bring back Serena. Blair was sure she could do it, but she couldn't help but wonder about the mess that would no doubt be awaiting her in Waldorf or if she would be able to handle it. And if that weren't enough, she couldn't be sure whether or not Serena would stay in Maryland to wait for her. All she knew was it was going to be a challenge, and she prayed that she would be up to it.

…

Lily took a sip of her tea and sighed deeply. Rufus had flown to Seattle the previous night to scout out an up and coming punk band, and since Eric, Serena, and Jenny were nowhere to be found, she was all alone in the penthouse. She turned on the flat screen in her bedroom and flipped until she reached _Say Yes to the Dress. _It was kind of sad really, her obsession with the wedding show considering her number of marriages, or perhaps it was just fitting.

"I always knew you were a wedding aficionado, but I didn't realize your passion spread to television shows."

"Oh my God!" screamed Lily, seeing Bart in the doorway. "No, you're not real! Holy mother!"

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but I am real," said Bart, chuckling deeply. "And I wanted to be the one to do it."

"But – but the car accident?" Lily asked, not noticing as her wire glasses fell off her nose.

"It was all a ruse to get Russell Thorpe to stop threatening you and Chuck. I never meant to hurt either of you by it, and I was trying to protect you. I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me."

"I – of course I will," breathed Lily, still in shock.

"I'm glad," said Bart. "Just so you know, I never stopped loving you those two years in hiding, and before you say anything, I already know you're married to Rufus. You were planning on leaving me for him even prior to the accident."

"I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I'm just asking that people listen when I tell them all of the things I should have told them two years ago. And what I am telling you right now, Lily, is that I love you and I'm going to fight for you."

With that, Bart Bass was gone. All Lily could do was sip her tea without tasting it and watch _Say Yes to the Dress _without seeing it.

…

"Stupid buses," muttered Blair after exiting one of Waldorf's white public buses. She'd spent the entire ride from Baltimore's airport pretending to listen to the lame jokes some fast food-scented loser was reciting froma book_._ "Stupid joke book." She stopped as she reached the lone bar in town and meandered a bit outside before entering. Her hesitation was drawn from her fear that Serena wouldn't be in it, and all of her efforts would be for naught. Sucking in a deep breath, Blair pushed the door open, and it chimed to announce her arrival.

"B, you came!" Serena immediately embraced Blair, nearly cutting off her circulation.

"Serena," Blair choked out. "You're asphyxiating me!"

"Oops, sorry," said Serena, releasing Blair.

"Thank you. Now it's time for the moment of truth, S. What's going on?" They sat down in a vacant booth in the back of the bar where no curious ears would be able to pick up their conversation.

"It all started when we got to our hotel in Baltimore," Serena began. "Carter said he had some business to do and I should stay in the room, but I insisted on coming. I had already had a few drinks, so I guess he thought I wouldn't really know what was going on."

"What_ was _going on, S? Don't tell me he's in trouble with the Buckleys again."

"Of course not. He got away from that oil reserve as soon as he could."

"Then what?" asked Blair.

"I – I overheard him talking about what happened to you, Chuck, and Nate. He – he knew things that hadn't been released to the press, like the way you and Nate were taken," whispered Serena, darting her eyes around the room to make sure no one was listening.

"Oh my God, you think he was involved?"

"The chloroform – he supplied it. The gasoline, too, all the gasoline Russell was planning on using to burn down the buildings."

"I can't believe I _defended_ that despicable excuse for a human being!" shouted Blair, scowling.

"I can't believe I ran off with him," moaned Serena, tears pricking her eyes. "What can we do to get back at him? I left a note saying I was homesick, so he doesn't know I found out about his involvement."

"Good, then he won't be expecting us to strike."

"But, B, he's not going to let me go so easily. He's crazier than he was when we were in high school, and he's going to follow me back. He even stole a necklace from a nice old lady two nights ago!"

"What?"

"Yeah, and I took it from the hotel when I left, because I felt so awful about it. I just wish I knew who she was so I could return it to her in person," Serena lamented.

"So you're going to turn it in when we get home?"

"Well it's not like I'm going back to Baltimore," muttered Serena bitterly.

"And I'm certainly not equipped with an abundance of time," added Blair. The girls were then silent for a minute.

"I don't know how much time we'll have to come up with a plan," Serena said, staring blankly into the fire roaring in the corner of the bar.

"Then we better start on the way home, huh?" Blair raised a perfectly-arched eyebrow in question.

"I guess so." They stood and gathered their belongings.

"Serena?" Blair asked, pushing open the door of the bar and activating the chime again.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you always attract the most insane guys on the planet?"

"Excuse me, but I'm not the one who _Chuck Bass _is in love with," countered Serena with a smirk. "I think he qualifies as insane."

"I see your point," laughed Blair, glad to have her best friend back. She hoped it would be for good this time.

…

Chuck woke at one a.m. to the ringing of his phone.

"Hello?" he mumbled, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"You and your father better be careful, Bass! You have no idea who you're messing with!"

The caller hung up before Chuck could say anything.

…

Nate also received a call in the middle of the night.

"Who is it?" he asked sleepily.

"Serena," answered a hushed voice.

"Serena?" he flew out of bed. "Serena, where are you?"

"I'm at The Empire. Will you meet me in the lobby?"

"I'll be right down." Nate slipped on a clean shirt and slacks and sprinted to the elevator. He had no idea why Serena was back, but he was grateful and searched the lobby desperately. "Serena!" he called, spotting her blond head.

"Nate," she answered weakly with a small smile.

"You scared the hell out of me!" he said, throwing his arms around her and kissing her head, her cheeks, her nose.

"I know. I'm so sorry."

"Well, you're back now. Everything is okay." Nate gave her his brightest grin.

"Actually, Nate, there's something you don't know," said Serena, her eyes downcast.

"Okay." Nate had a confused countenance about him, but his happiness didn't appear to be marred by Serena's obvious distress. She pulled him into the elevator and employed the emergency break, her heart picking up in anticipation.

"Nate, Carter was involved with what happened with you, Chuck, and Blair. I didn't know when I went with him, and I left when I found out, but – "

"He – he what?"

"Yeah, he supplied the chloroform and the gasoline, and he left the Buckley's reserve right after. I even remember reading about the theft on the reserve in the paper! I'm such an idiot!"

"Serena, you couldn't possibly have known," said Nate, attempting to contain the surge of anger he felt toward his old rival. "It's not your fault that you wanted to spend time with an old friend."

"I never should have gone," she reasoned, shaking her head. "He was always trouble, even back when I thought he wasn't. He just hid it better then."

"Well, he's not going to mess with you, or me, or anyone else anymore, alright?"

"He's going to follow me here," Serena said quietly into Nate's chest.

"Even if he does, he's done messing with you," Nate repeated confidently. "Baizen's done messing with all of us."

…

"Chuck?" Blair called softly, not wanting to scare him. "Chuck?"

"I'm awake," he said, sitting up in bed. He hadn't been able to sleep since the troubling phone call he'd received.

"You do realize it's three in the morning, right?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"Touché," she replied, crawling under the covers next to him. "But I have an excuse. I just got back from Waldorf, Maryland with Serena."

"I didn't know they named a town after you," Chuck joked.

"Well, that Waldorf's name happens to predate my birth, but they'll name one after me eventually."

"I'd offer to name a hotel after you, but that's already taken. Damn Waldorf-Astoria."

"Well, you're sweet for thinking of it," she said, leaning into him and inhaling his scent. "Why were you awake, by the way?"

"I got a strange phone call," said Chuck carefully. He knew Blair would worry, but he couldn't hide this from her. "Someone was threatening Bart and me."

"Oh no," breathed Blair, already starting to cry. "You've already been through so much, and now with Serena –"

"Serena? What about her?"

"It's not my place to tell you," said Blair, unsure if Serena would mind. Just then, Chuck and Blair heard laughter coming from outside.

"Then she can tell me now." Chuck, already in a robe, walked into the living room, a white-faced Blair on his tail. "So, Serena, what's going on with you that has Blair spooked?"

"Carter supplied the chloroform and gas for Thorpe," Nate explained before Serena got the chance. "Serena found out and left as soon as she could."

"Well, shit," said Chuck, darkly and almost humorously. "It seems the whole world is against us, doesn't it?"

"I think we can handle it," Blair replied, her mouth perking up. "After all, there are four of us and there's only one world."

"That's some twisted logic," said Nate with a grin. "But I think you may be right."

"Aren't I always?" She batted her lashes.

"Almost," Chuck corrected, taking a seat beside her on the couch. "I just – I don't know who could be behind all of this or want to hurt my father and me so much. Every time I think I've found an answer, two more questions get raised."

"One step forward, two steps back," Blair agreed.

"So what do we do? How can we solve this mystery once and for all?" Serena looked at the faces of her three best friends – Nate's was optimistic, Chuck's pessimistic, and Blair's was somewhere in the middle.

"We always figure something out, don't we?" asked Nate, his voice reflective of his expression.

"This isn't a simple takedown, Nate," said Blair lightly. "But I do think we'll beat this mystery man or woman."

"But we don't know, though, that it is a man or woman," Chuck argued. "This could be so much more than that – a corporation or the government."

"The government?" scoffed Serena. "Diving into conspiracy theories now, are we?"

"Serena," Blair warned, knowing that Chuck was still shaken from the phone call. "We can't discount anything for sure."

"No she's right." Chuck sighed, placing his head in his hands. "I feel like I'm being driven crazy."

"So, do you want me to push back our winter break trip?" asked Blair.

"What trip?" Serena asked.

"Oh, right. I never got to tell you about that. Ignore me!" Blair inwardly hit herself. She never should have brought it up, but the way Chuck was acting, it was clear he needed to be in New York.

"No, I want to know," said Serena. "What trip are you talking about?"

Blair and Chuck reluctantly told Nate and Serena about the wager they had made and that Blair was supposed to be picking the destination for their winter vacation.

"We should go!" exclaimed Serena at the end of the story. "It would be fun!"

"But, S, Chuck –"

"It's not a bad idea," countered Chuck. "I could use the vacation. We all could."

"I'm all for it!" said Nate. "_The Spectator_'s been kicking my ass lately."

"That leaves you, Waldorf. So tell me – what fabulous destination do you have in mind for us?"

For weeks, Blair had been set on Aspen. They could ski, drink hot chocolate, build fires, and lounge in the hot tub – in other words, the perfect winter trip. She took a deep breath.

"We're going to Aspen!"

A cheer went up around the room.

…

_Good morning, New Yorkers. As some of you may know, I have recently been a bit worried about the future. It's caused a lot of problems for me – an abandoned trip to Africa among them. I just want so badly to make a name for myself for a reason other than, well, my name. And now, after leaving town for a few days, I'm back to square one. Socrates advised people to "Know thyself," and I feel as if I can check that off on the to-do list. I know who I am. It's who I want to become that's coming into question. What I want to do – who I want to be… Are they interchangeable or mutually exclusive? Is it who I am that determines what I do or is it what I do that determines who I am? That's the new question, and maybe a little R&R in Aspen will help me find the answer._

_Love always,_

_SVDW_

…

"Did you read Serena's blog this week?" asked Blair, walking with Chuck on their way to feed the ducks. They needed a break from the media circus Bart's resurrection and Serena's sickness were causing the family, and going to the familiar pond was a perfect escape.

"It was great," answered Chuck thoughtfully. "But it really made me think."

"About whom it is that you want to become," guessed Blair.

"And how easy life is to waste if you turn into someone not worthy of it."

"You're not wasting it. You've accomplished so much already, and you haven't even hit twenty yet," Blair assured him, assuming he was feeling insecure about his achievements.

"Blair, that's exactly what I'm saying when I say I'm wasting too much time on things that aren't that important. I've barely spent any time at all with you this month."

"We've both been busy."

"Well, that's no excuse," he said, frowning. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you more," she replied, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "But we have the Hamilton House party tomorrow night, and then we'll have lots of time to spend together during break."

"You're right. But what about after?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, not sure what he was alluding to.

"I don't want to get swept up in work again while you get swept up in school and Girls, Inc. and then just drift away," he said, obviously worried about the possibility.

"Chuck, we can't drift away." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "That's always been the problem, if you recall. We _can't _get away from each other, and no matter how hard we try, we're always pulled back in."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's an _amazing_ thing," answered Blair confidently. "_You_ are the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me, and that's not going to change."

"What do you think we'll be doing ten years from now?" he asked suddenly, pulling off a piece of bread and throwing it into the water.

"This probably," giggled Blair. "But minus the limo and plus a stroller and a couple of kids maybe."

"Why do we have to lose the limo?"

"Limos are not appropriate vehicles for children, Chuck." She ripped off a chunk of the bread and scattered bits of it onto the ground by the pond.

"Well, it's not like we're going to be orthodox parents."

"True, but we will be orthodox in that Mommy will win all of the arguments," she said. Chuck picked her up before she could protest and pressed her against a tree.

"Oh, I don't know about that. Mommy isn't going to get any if she doesn't let Daddy win any fights," he drawled, his hot breath in her ear.

"Mommy will be just fine. Daddy is always the one to break first," Blair argued, wrapping her legs around his waist and loosening his bowtie. "So what will it be, Chuck? Do you agree to let me win all future fights?"

"Not a chance," he said, though his resolve was beginning to wane as Blair rubbed herself against his groin. "Well, maybe half. You can win half."

"90 percent."

"70."

"85, and that is the absolute lowest I'm going."

"85," Chuck said, tugging her back into the limo. She wasn't going to argue with that.

'Cause I am done with my graceless heart  
So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart  
'Cause I like to keep my issues strong  
It's always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out,  
Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa  
And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back  
So shake him off, oh whoa

**Until next time – xoxo**


	27. Breathing Underwater

****Hi, you gorgeous readers! I have an early Christmas/late Hanukkah/another holiday that I have not mentioned present for you: Chapter 27 of FOWB! (FINALLY.) And this one is full of twists, so get excited.

An extra present (AKA my gratitude/love) goes out to: anabelle12 (your reviews never fail to make my day and make me smile xo :), RauhlPrincess (i just got a twitter, and i followed you! #techtimewithbecca = hilarioussss), kauraREX (i hope this chap keeps you on the edge ;), Chairytale Ending (no chair sex in this chapter, but there may be some in the future. i am so mad we only got one scene this whole season! wtf? i miss season 2...), & pLei4fun (your review pushed me to write this chapter today, so thank you! i needed that!)

I want to know what everyone thought of the finale! I'm so sad it's over, but except for the Derena ending (I will always be a Serenate gal), I thought the finale was fantastic! We got our chairytale ending, and we got Henry! 3

Feel free to leave me a review as MY Christmas present ;) Without further ado, Chapter 27...

**Chapter 27: Breathing Underwater**

I'm the blade, you're a knife  
I'm the weight, you're the kite  
They were right when they said  
We were breathing underwater  
Out of place all the time  
In a world that wasn't mine to take;  
I'll wait

-"Breathing Underwater" Metric

"Dorota! Dorota!"

"Yes, Miss Blair. I coming." Dorota stuck her head in Blair's bedroom and was greeted with the sight of cascading fuchsia ruffles. "Oh, Miss Blair, you look like princess!"

Blair smiled slightly at Dorota before returning her eyes to the mirror, where she was anxiously studying her reflection.

"Thank you, Dorota, but I don't think this one is right either. I can't wear fuchsia to a holiday party! That's like wearing yellow to a funeral."

"People wear yellow to Michael Jackson funeral."

"And you think that's a convincing point?"

"But, Miss Blair, this dress number twenty-four," sighed Dorota. "We not have all night. Mr. Chuck will be here - "

"Mr. Chuck will wait if I ask him to," cut in Blair, with a wave of dismissal. "Right now, I'm concerned with impressing everyone at the Hamilton House party."

"First of all," drawled another voice. "Chuck Bass waits for no one, and second, you impress everyone no matter what you're wearing."

"What's in your hands?" asked Blair, immediately noticing the large, patterned box he had with him. "Is that for me?"

"What, no response? No greeting at all?" teased Chuck, gently pulling on one of Blair's spiral curls. "That's not the way to treat a date, especially one who, yes, did bring a gift for you."

"I'm sorry," Blair huffed quickly, relaxing her face. "Hi, Chuck. Can I have it now?"

"Not a chance."

"Bass!" she whined. "I'm not in the mood for a game."

"And I'm not in the mood to be verbally or physically assaulted, Waldorf," he chuckled, catching her small, white hand as it headed for his shoulder. Blair nodded, realizing her frustrations were not Chuck's fault, and they should not be released on him.

"I'm sorry." It had more meaning this time. "Hi, Chuck." She kissed his forehead, his cheek, his nose, his jaw. "I love you, and I'm glad you're here."

"I love you too, which is why I brought this for you." He handed her the box, which she managed not to snatch out of his possession. Blair untied the silky bow and fingered the name underneath it.

"Elie Saab?" she breathed. "You shouldn't have, but I'm so happy you did!" A wide grin spread on her face as she threw off the lid and saw sparkling, gilded fabric.

"I buy you things for this," he said, gently brushing his finger across her lips. "I love seeing you smile your couture smile."

"My couture smile?" She unzipped the fuchsia mess and lifted the impeccable gold creation over her head. "I didn't know I had one."

"Well it's more of a fashion appreciation smile. You use it all the time at Bergdorf's."

"Must be similar to your smile when you see a scarf," she said, eyeing the pop of red wool around his neck before disappearing into her closet.

"I already have to remind Nathaniel not to mock my scarves. Not you too." He picked a stray piece of lint off of the attention-grabbing cherry color.

"Why, are they back to being your signature?" she called, searching out the perfect pair of shoes as she successfully slid the dress over her hips.

"I told him that in confidence!"

"You should know by now that anything said around Nate is not said in confidence." Finally ready, Blair emerged from her closet in gold heels concealed by the floor-length dress.

"God, Blair. It looks even better on you than I imagined. I could be considered a hedonist for buying that for you." The glimmering, ornate beads were striking without being ostentatious, and the dress looked made for her.

"Thank you, Chuck. You're quite winsome yourself. You're wearing a gold bowtie, aren't you?"

"Is that even a question? Now, come on. Arthur's waiting."

…

"B! You look like a goddess!" Serena threw her arms around her best friend as soon as she got close enough.

"Thanks, S. And you look like a supermodel, as always."

Serena ran her hands down her shimmering silver gown, which featured chains in loops around the bodice. Versace never failed a van der Woodsen woman.

"Naomi Campbell, right?" joked Serena.

"Yes. In both appearance and insanity level." The girls laughed until an unwelcome voice interrupted them.

"I always pegged you for a Claudia Schiffer," said Carter Baizen, staring at Serena unabashedly. "Tall and blonde with a banging body."

"Carter, what the hell are you doing here?" whispered Serena angrily, her eyes darting around the room. "This is a formal event. You can't just show up."

"I didn't. I'm some lame junior's plus one. She's at the bar, trying to drink until she turns pretty and skinny."

"Oh my God," moaned Blair. "Of all the things that could have happened tonight…"

"Get used to the undesirable guests," said Serena, pointing her finger. Jack and Diana had entered the party, both in flamboyant garb, and were heading in Blair's direction. "Carter, I want you to go to the east corner of this room, text me when you're there, and I will speak with you for a total of two minutes."

Carter said nothing, only lurked off, grabbing a cocktail as he went.

"You've got to be kidding me," groaned Blair, as Jack, in a 70s-style suit and neon shirt, and Diana, in a skin-tight zebra dress, reached her.

"Blair, old pal. Is someone telling a bad joke again?" asked Jack, the twinkle of alcohol in his eye.

"No, just looking at one," she sniped, narrowing her eyes. "Why are _you _here?"

"Crashing parties is a Bass specialty."

"So essentially, what you're saying is you're here to drink and dance," she clarified.

"Correct, Miss Waldorf."

Diana nodded in agreement with Jack's words.

"That's a relief," she sighed. "Now, listen. I don't want you upchucking either one your crappy one-liners or the pound of cocktail shrimp I know you're planning to consume on any of the guests, so let's not go overboard with the alcohol, yes?"

"Whatever you say."

"Good answer. Now run along."

"You look ravishing by the way," Jack added over his shoulder.

"What is it with Basses and that word?" she muttered, hoping that Serena would successfully manage Carter and there would not be any more issues. But then again, the party was only twenty minutes in, so she wasn't going to get her hopes up.

…

"Hey, Eric, Jonathon. How are you guys?"

"Pretty good. How about you, Nate?" asked Eric, who looked dapper in Tom Ford.

"Much better now that your sister and I are solid again," Nate assured him, remembering that Eric did not enjoy being his babysitter when Serena left with Carter.

"Listen, Nate. About that," Eric began. He wasn't quite sure how to phrase "I just saw Carter Baizen talking to Serena," without A) causing Nate pain or B) causing Nate to punch someone. Luckily, he didn't have to finish.

"Baizen's here," Chuck announced to the group. "Serena tried talking him into leaving, but that didn't work, so Blair got security on it. I didn't ask what he wanted. You better ask Serena."

"He's here? Where exactly?"

Chuck recognized the dangers within the eagerness of Nate's query.

"Not telling you, man. We all know what happens when you and Baizen interact at parties. He gets punched, and you get thrown out."

"Hey, I think I've matured since cotillion in the 11th grade," Nate argued. Chuck and Eric shared a skeptical look.

"I believe you, Nate," said Jonathon. "But I think I may be the only one."

"You are," Chuck and Eric answered immediately.

"You must not spend enough time around him to know that he has the maturity of a twelve-year-old," added Chuck.

"I'd say eleven," Eric said with a chuckle.

"He said _he thinks _he's matured since 11th grade," Jonathon explained. "And I believe he thinks that. I'd probably side with you on the question of his maturity development, though." Chuck, Eric, and Jonathon shared a laugh as Nate looked on darkly.

"Oh, don't pout, man. Serena's at about the third-grade level, which makes you perfect for each other."

"Why are Nate and I perfect for each other?" interrupted Serena, walking to Nate's side.

"You're immature," Eric said bluntly. "But in a cute way."

"Gee, thanks, little bro," replied Serena mordantly. "Love you too."

"We're going to dance now," said Jonathon, taking Eric's hand and pulling him to the dance floor. "Catch you all later."

"Listen, Serena," said Nate, as soon as the pair left. "What did Carter want?"

"Me." She rolled her eyes. "He's a complete lunatic, but he thinks it's some sort of turn on."

"He didn't threaten you with anything, right?" asked Chuck.

"Nope," Serena said. "Can we please have a drink now?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

…

"Do you think he suspects anyone in particular yet?" a female voice asked, far away from the Hamilton House party.

"No," the male responded shortly. "Neither Bass does."

"You'd think they would be cleverer."

"Or at least pay someone else to be," a third person chimed in.

"Bart may after tonight."

"Are you sure it's a good idea to go through with this?" asked the woman.

"It's not your job to ask questions," he said harshly. "We don't ask, we just do."

"And if I'm not comfortable with what we're doing?"

"Honey, you're in way too deep to get out now."

…

"Blair, have you had a drink yet tonight?"

"Are you kidding, Maggie? When would I have had time to have a drink?" Her eyes were frantic and she looked ready to shove Maggie's drink up a place Maggie didn't want it shoved. But all Maggie could do was laugh at Blair's visible anxiety.

"Come on, loosen up. It's a party, for God's sake!"

"The party _I'm _supposed to be in charge of. And it's full of crashers, and did you know that they sent Gouda cheese to go with the bruschetta? _Gouda_?"

"Blair, chill," cackled Maggie. "I like Gouda. And no one cares what cheese is served anyway. If they have a few drinks, they won't even be able to tell if it's that processed, orange kind."

"You mean American?" asked Blair. Maggie nodded. "The fact that people actually eat that is revolting."

"Well, it's not _that_ terrible on grilled cheese."

"Take that back or we're not friends anymore."

"You're willing to sacrifice our friendship based on cheese preference?" questioned Maggie with an amused smirk.

"I once dropped a minion in the ninth grade because she brought a Twinkie to lunch." Blair's face was deadly serious. "A _Twinkie _to lunch at _Constance._"

"Well, then," said Maggie, throwing up her hands. "No more American cheese for me!"

"Good. Now let's go find Chuck and that loser Joe Shmoe you brought along and dance."

"Loser Joe Shmoe? I'm offended you think my taste in men is truly so horrendous!" exclaimed Maggie.

"Mags, you waited until three nights ago to even RSVP, so you asked the guy who takes your order at Starbucks," Blair said, grimacing. "He has _dreadlocks_."

"I'm making his life tonight, and besides, he's kind of cute. Just look past the dreads, and kind of frame his face with your hands like this," instructed Maggie, holding up her hands and squinting slightly.

"It's the California in you," sighed Blair. "I'm afraid I can't entirely extract it."

"You don't _really_ want to. You secretly find it enchanting."

"I really do. I mean, those dreads are probably full of things like diseases or dead animals!"

"Or secrets," Maggie said with a wink. "You know what they say about big hair."

…

"Have you told Blair yet?" Diana asked Jack, crossing her legs. They were seated at the bar and both were nursing glasses of scotch. Chuck wasn't the only Bass who enjoyed it.

"No."

"And are you going to?" Diana pressed, sipping her drink. "This is serious for that poor girl."

"You think I don't know that?" Jack ran a hand through his hair. "Eleanor told me to wait until the right time."

"_Is_ there a right time?"

Jack thought about it.

"I guess not," he answered. "I feel sorry for her. She's tough on the outside, but on the inside, she's just as screwed up as my nephew."

"Why isn't Eleanor here, telling Blair herself?" asked Diana, a slight frown on her face. "Why leave it to you?"

"She's enjoying her travels with Cyrus. If she came to tell Blair, Blair wouldn't let her leave," explained Jack. "It's one of the things I admire about that girl. When she cares about you, she stops at nothing to save you."

"Physically or emotionally?"

"Both, I suppose," he said, chuckling humorlessly as he remembered a rooftop night a couple years back. "You know, she saved Chuck in more ways than one."

"You have to tell her. Do you know how long Eleanor has?"

"I will. And no, I don't know, but after tonight, I'll tell Blair that her mother is sick."

…

"You ready to go?" asked Chuck, grabbing Blair's hand.

"Mm-hm." She smiled at him, couldn't stop smiling at him.

"What?"

"What do mean, what?"

"Why are you smiling?"

"I just love you is all."

He smiled at her, couldn't stop smiling at her.

"I love you too."

Still holding hands, they walked to the garage where their limo awaited.

"Bye, losers!" called Nate, climbing into his own.

"Later, freak!"

The driver pressed the gas. The leather felt chilly on their backs, but their cheeks were still flushed from dancing.

"I love every part of you."

"Even the scarves?"

She took a deep breath, because it was a simple question, really, but she had a lot to say.

"Yes, immensely. And the scotch and bowties and schemes and laughs…The way you pinch your nose when you're frustrated, the way you laugh around just me, the way you hold me when you know I've had a bad day…And the fact that you're a romantic and I'm the only one who knows it. You, Chuck Bass, are the love of my life. You're the one I never want to leave."

And I won't ever leave you, is what she didn't have to say. Because he already knew.

"Are you sure?"

But he asked just in case, because even though he despised it about himself, he still thought that she deserved someone like Nate Archibald, never understood how he got so lucky, how he got Blair Waldorf.

Instead of answering in words, she kissed him like she did when she was sixteen and he was sixteen and butterflies the color of peonies flew into their stomachs in swarms.

Then, out of nowhere, they heard an "Oh, shit!" and felt the force of something (a car? a truck? a railing?) hit the limo.

Everything went black. But the butterflies weren't quite ready to stop stirring.

…

"It's done."

"Done? Are they, are they - " she couldn't say the word out loud.

"Dead? No. Not yet, at least."

"But they will be?" she asked, hating herself as her lip began quivering.

"The girl will most likely make it. Bass, on the other hand, doesn't have much of a shot."

"It should be a considered a success then."

The woman scowled at the stentorian and loathed voice.

"We shouldn't call it that."

"Women are too sensitive for this, I'm telling you." Lackadaisical eyes met hers pointedly. "Can't take the death."

"Maybe because the death isn't necessary. Chuck didn't do anything wrong."

"I don't care if he's the pope," the cold voice cut in, putting an end to the squabbling between the belligerents. "Like I said, we just do."

…

"No, no, no…" Bart said into the receiver, hardly breathing. "This can't be true."

It was. And he knew it, which is why it was so very difficult to supply oxygen to his lungs.

"Where? Where are they?"

The limo was there within seconds. The breathing became more difficult as he looked at it in all its shiny black grandeur. Getting in it felt like a betrayal, because his son had believed he would be kept safe in his. And now Chuck was in a hospital bed, not safe at all.

…

"Eleanor's coming."

Six heads looked up.

"She is?"

"She has to."

"Of course. If it were Serena or Eric - "

"Or Dan or Jenny - "

"Please stop." Bart still wasn't breathing right. "The reality is bad enough, we don't need the hypothetical too."

"You're right."

"I'm so sorry, Bart."

"We all are."

"And they're going to be fine."

"I hope so." Small breath in, small breath out. "God, I hope so."

…

Hours passed. Darkness turned to light, and it seemed to mean something more than just the natural workings of the world because of the news the crowd received with the first, soft yellow rays of sunlight.

"Miss Waldorf is awake."

"Can we see her?" Eleanor had arrived during the night after taking a jet from Napa Valley. "Can I see my daughter?"

"Of course, Mrs. Rose. But first, the doctor needs to speak with her privately. She may not wish to disclose all of her procedure, as she is legally an adult."

"Is something going on? I demand to know!" Eleanor was gravely ill, but she wasn't feeble. Never feeble, never compliant. Always powerful, always commanding.

"Eleanor, sweetie, let's just calm down. It's completely normal for her doctor to speak to her, and I'm sure Blair will tell you everything that happened last night."

Eleanor nodded, sinking back into her chair.

"Fine. But I won't wait forever."

…

"Miss Waldorf? How are you feeling?"

"It's Blair, please. And not so great, actually." She opened her eyes, looked around the room. "What - wait where - and who - oh my God!"

"Blair, I need you to relax. Take deep breaths, close your eyes if you have to. I'm here to explain what happened last night."

"I - I'm in the hospital!"

"Yes."

"Chuck! Where is Chuck? Oh my God, tell me he's okay!"

"He's alive."

Blair clenched at the sheets, because even she knew those words were deceiving.

"But?" she asked, her voice already breaking like thin ice.

"But he's in critical condition."

Blair didn't know how long she sobbed, just that the doctor let her. It could have been five minutes, hours, days. Time ceased to matter if Chuck was at a standstill.

"What are you doing to help him? I'll pay whatever it takes to get him healthy."

"He's in the best care, Blair." The doctor sat down in the bulky, cream armchair beside her bed. "My name is Dr. Lisa Ravindran. Now, there are two ways we can do this. Either I can answer all of your questions as I talk, or I can tell you everything and you can ask questions at the end. It's your choice."

"I would say the end, but I know I'll end up interrupting you anyway," said Blair, wiping her eyes.

"Okay, well let me ask _you_ a question first. What do you remember?"

"I remember…Telling Chuck I love him, and we were kissing, and then I felt the limo slam into something. That's honestly the last thing I remember."

"Well," said Ravindran, scribbling something illegible into her notepad. "Then I have some filling in to do. I wasn't in the group that came to the scene of the accident, but I was told that the limo ran into a rail on the side of the road. The driver didn't brake in time to make a sharp turn."

"Hold on, what happened to him? It wasn't Arthur driving, was it?"

"No, it was someone with the last name Stevens. He was pronounced dead on the scene."

"Oh my God." She clenched the sheets again. "Did he have a family?" she whispered, unsure if she really wanted to know. But she had to, even if she didn't entirely want to.

"A wife," answered Ravindran. "And twin girls, age three."

Blair was silent for a moment. "Keep going," she said, her voice still a whisper, her eyes still stinging.

"You and Chuck were brought to the E.R., where both of you were immediately sent to me. He was in worse condition, but I ended up operating on you first, for obvious reasons."

"Why would you do that? What reasons?" Blair could feel the resentment mounting. Why would they work on her first if Chuck was clearly worse off?

"You don't know?" Ravindran looked a bit shocked, or maybe it was alarm.

"Know what?"

"Blair… you're pregnant."

…

Nights are days  
We beat a path through the mirrored maze  
I can see the end  
But it hasn't happened yet  
I can see the end  
But it hasn't happened yet

Is this my life?  
Am I breathing underwater?

**Until next time - xoxo**


	28. A Change is Gonna Come

A/N: It's a little short and sad, but I'm in that kind of mood.

X's and O's to:

merriment (yay! i hope you like this one too!), Chairytale Ending (i always try to surprise y'all with my twists! and yes, i feel robbed of that wedding night!), pLei4fun (i loved reading your thoughts, and i completely agree about s and lily! the love letter thing was ridic for real), anabelle12 (aw thank you, you rock! and i like to pretend serenate ended up together ;), Kathrynm37 (i'm glad you didn't expect it! i love the element of surprise in fiction ;), Sparkleyangel (don't worry, i love chuck too much to do anything drastic :), Guest (thanks! glad you liked it! and i wish we got more funny scenes of cb as a couple, so that was fun to write), and xoxo S (i know, i'm terrible about the cliffhangers, but i'm happy you're enjoying the story! :)

Thanks again to all who reviewed!

* * *

**Chapter 28: A Change is Gonna Come**

It's been too hard living but I'm afraid to die

'Cause I don't know what's up there beyond the sky

It's been a long, a long time coming

But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will

-"A Change is Gonna Come" Sam Cooke

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No. It's not possible."

The doctor fluttered her eyelids and pinched her nose.

"Obviously it is, Blair."

"I don't understand," Blair muttered, more to herself than Dr. Ravindran. "I don't -"

"Three weeks," cut in Ravindran. "That's how far along you are."

"Three weeks," parroted Blair, her fingers running through her crushed curls. "That would mean… _Oh God."_

…

_ "Have you seen Chuck lately?" asked Serena, popping an olive off its toothpick._

_ "Seen? Yes," answered Blair, taking a dainty sip of her own martini. "Talked to? No," she finished wryly, setting the glass back down._

_ "But it's your - "_

_ "Birthday? Yes, S, I'm aware, but considering my on and off stalker-like persona this week, I don't blame him for not initiating any plans." Her ruby lips pressed against the glass once more, and they twisted into a smirk after she'd drained it of all liquid._

_ "He'll call," said Serena, an air of confidence about her. "I know my brother, and he will. Two decades is a big deal."_

_ "I'm not counting on it, hence the three martinis I've already downed tonight."_

_ Serena opened her mouth to reply, but Blair wasn't finished._

_ "You know, S, I'm feeling strangely nostalgic," she said. "How about some tequila and table dancing?" She lifted a dark eyebrow, keeping the smirk intact._

_ "I - wait seriously?"_

_ "Seriously, S. Come on!"_

…

_ "Blair, you're flashing people!" Serena laughed, eyeing Blair's unusually short and flouncy dress._

_ "I'm trying to catch up with you in scandals!" Blair tossed back. "And that starts with giving the paparazzi what they want!" She threw her head back and laughed loudly, unapologetically, and twirled to allow the barely-pubescent boys at Butter the chance to snap a few pictures of Queen B's La Perlas. "Anyone want to dance?" she asked saucily, raising her eyebrows while knocking back another shot of tequila. A wave of high school boys threw their hands into the air._

_ "Dude, she's so hot!" said one._

_ "And drunk!" Fist bumps were exchanged._

_ "I'm tapping that ass!"_

_ "Not if I do first!"_

_ Blair continued to dance, shaking her hips from side to side, oblivious to the excited whispers below."So?" she inquired of the group. "Who's it going to be?"_

_ "Well, personally I don't care, so long as you save the last for me."_

_ "Chuck!" she squealed, considering a jump off of the table and into his arms. "You're here!"_

_ "I'm here," he confirmed. "It is a very important day, Waldorf, is it not?"_

_ "Very, very important," she agreed with a nod and the most serious face she could muster._

_ "Happy birthday, man," said Chuck slyly, turning from Blair and high-fiving a fellow with an "it's my birthday" button on his shirt._

_ "Not funny!" Her mouth settled into a familiar pout._

_ "I was kidding, Waldorf. Happy birthday." He stretched out a hand; she took it. "Woah there," he said with a chuckle as Blair stumbled down from the tabletop. "You need to take it easy."_

_ "Did you just say I'm easy?" mumbled Blair. "Because that's not true. Well, except for you."_

_ Chuck laughed again. "You may be easy," he whispered into her ear. "But you make me very hard."_

_ Her eyes met his and she giggled sweetly, showing all her pearly teeth. "That I do, Casanova. Take me home?"_

_ "Of course."_

…

_ "My head," Blair groaned after arriving back at her penthouse. "It's going to explode, and I feel so dizzy."_

_ "A gallon of tequila will do that to you." He flipped to the business section of The Times._

_ "Does this amuse you?"_

_ He smirked but said nothing._

_ "You Basshole! You know," she pointed out, lifting a finger that didn't quite point in his direction, "you haven't even said happy birthday to me yet, and now you're making fun of me."_

_ "You're absolutely right, Waldorf." The newspaper was left abandoned on the couch as Chuck moved to the piano._

_ "What are you doing?" she asked. His hands hit the keys, and she smiled in realization._

_ "Happy birthday to you," Chuck sang, his voice impressively in tune. It was deep, seductive, even though the song was a simple one. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to Waldorf, happy birthday to you."_

_ "Mm, that was lovely."_

_ His hand brushed her cheek. "You're lovely."_

_ "Chuck," she sighed, lowering her eyes while leaning into his touch. "About this week, I know I've been acting like a crazy person and I - "_

_ "Blair, just shut up." His mouth met hers, and it was electric, like it always was. He leaned back into the piano, and her legs wrapped around his waist automatically. He ripped her stockings down and put his mouth on her thighs, kissing her soft white skin as she gripped the hair on the back of his neck._

_ "Chuck," she moaned as he inched his way closer to the La Perlas that were now captured on teenage boys' cell phones._

_ "Happy birthday, Blair," he said, just as he tore them off._

…

"Oh God," Blair repeated, pressing a hand to her mouth. "I completely forgot about that night. I - oh, my God."

"Blair, I understand that you're surprised. Just take a deep breath, and -"

"Chuck! Oh no, I - I -" Blair broke off in a sob.

"I assumed he was the father," said Dr. Ravindran quietly, rubbing her eyes.

"He has to get better!" Blair yelled, suddenly rocketing off of her bed. "If he doesn't, then I will ruin every single incompetent fool that works here! I'll revoke medical licenses! I'll sue the hospital! I'll -" And another sob erupted, spilling out of her mouth, her heart, her _soul, _its lava in the form of devastation_._ "He has to," she whispered at last, closing her eyes and letting her hand drift to her stomach.

…

"It's been almost two hours!" shouted Eleanor, pacing one of the many bland halls of the hospital in exasperation. "What in the world is going on?"

"We'll see her when she's ready for us," Cyrus said softly. "You're forgetting that it's Chuck, and the news wasn't good."

"Yes, but -" Eleanor began to form an argument but sputtered out rather quickly. Cyrus was right. It _was _Chuck.

"How is he?" asked Lily, turning to Bart. "Has there been any more news? I was told that if I bothered another doctor I would be sent home," she added with a sigh and a tiny turn of the lips.

"Nothing," responded Bart with an even deeper sigh. "Believe me, I've tried every incentive, then every threat, and still nothing."

"Is he in surgery?" Rufus was clearly out of the loop. He'd been busy consuming vast numbers of muffins offered by the hospital's cafe.

"Blood transfusion."

"Oh." He picked off another piece of lemon poppyseed. "Does anyone want a muffin?" he asked, gesturing to the paper bag on his lap.

"Eat at a time like this?" Eleanor scoffed. "No."

"No thank you, Rufus," Bart said politely.

"Mrs. Rose?" Dr. Ravindran asked, breaking into the parents' discussion. "Your daughter will see you now."

…

"He's going to be fine, Serena," said Nate to a teary Serena, whose golden head rested on his shoulder. "Chuck would never go down without a fight."

"I know that." He had to strain just to hear her.

"Serena -"

"Nate, it's okay. You don't have to say anything else. Just hold me, please." She edged closer to him; he wrapped an arm around her.

"Okay," he said quietly.

…

"Mom?"

"Blair!" Eleanor threw her arms around her only child. "Thank goodness you're okay!"

"Mom, there's something you need to -"

"I mean, when I got that phone call, I was so panicked!"

"Mom, please, I-"

"And then Bart! He was scaring all of us. I thought he was going to have some sort of heart attack or something, and -"

"_Mom, I'm pregnant_!"

Eleanor finally shut her mouth, but as her mouth shrunk, her eyes widened.

"You're - you're what?"

"I didn't know," Blair said quietly, settling into an Indian-style seat on the hospital bed. "I was shocked when Dr. Ravindran told me, but I am. Three weeks."

"I don't know what to say," said Eleanor, shaking her head. "I mean, considering the circumstances, I don't think it would be appropriate to act excited."

"Well for the love of God, don't act sad," snapped Blair. "I think I've had enough of sadness for one day."

"You're right," agreed Eleanor. She moved to sit behind Blair and began rubbing circles on her back. "Everything is going to be fine, darling. Chuck is going to recover, you are going to have a beautiful child, and the two of you are going to be together forever."

The circles continued on her back, and Blair's hand returned to her stomach. Only she didn't trace circles. She much preferred infinity signs. _Forever_, she promised to Chuck from across the hospital. _Don't give up, and I'll give you forever._

…

"What do you mean? How did the transfusion not work?"

"We - we don't know."

"_You don't know?"_ growled Bart, ice glinting in his eyes. "Not an acceptable answer! I don't pay you to not know!"

"Mr. Bass," said Dr. Ravindran, saving the peevish young doctor from Big Bad Bart. "What Dr. Gamper means is, we don't know _for sure_. My opinion is that Chuck's blood cells reacted negatively to the blood we gave him, because although it was the same type, occasionally a family member's blood is necessary. His immune system is less likely to fight against blood cells that similar to his own."

"Well then why the hell are we having this conversation in your office? Hurry up, stick a needle in me, and let's draw some blood!"

"Right away, Mr. Bass."

…

"What's happening now?" asked the woman to her superior.

"Bart has stepped in. We won't be able to switch in the wrong type of blood in this time. He'll be watching like a hawk."

"Oh, well that's...disappointing," she said, not at all meaning what she was saying.

"Disappointing is an understatement. You want this to be over, don't you?"

"Yes," she sighed, placing her head in her hands. "I just wish I could write a different ending," she whispered to herself. "The happy one they deserve."

…

Oh there been times that I thought I couldn't last for long

But now I think I'm able to carry on

It's been a long, a long time coming

But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will

**Until next time - xoxo**


	29. The Fighter

A/N: It may seem as if I don't love you, but I do. I really do. It's real life that I don't love all the time.

Extra love goes out to: pLei4fun (you're not going to find out yet, but it's coming! ;), RauhlPrincess (thanks! and the mystery isn't going to be solved in this one, but soon!), xoxo S (yeah, it was a little confusing lol, 1. no, 2. you'll find out soon, and 3. chapter 23 range), anabelle12 (haha they are pretty awful aren't they?), SecretGG (interesting theory...you'll have to wait and see though ;), BekaRoo (you know i love him too much to do anything drastic ;), and MaeveGGfan (thank you so much! that's so sweet! 3)

This one is a bit of a filler, but things should pick back up in the next chapter!

Chapter 29: The Fighter

The fighter goes inside

The doubt is creeping in

He swings with all his might

At all that might have been

And she's in love with him

But lovers don't always win

-"The Fighter" The Fray

Dan Humphrey was, for one of the first times since junior year, completely out of the loop. The completely insane, wouldn't-believe-it-unless-it-was-people-you-knew loop. And he didn't like it, hence the reasoning behind his late night trip to the hospital where Chuck and Blair were supposedly being treated. Supposedly, Dan thought to himself bitterly, because even Rufus hadn't thought to inform Dan of their whereabouts. Not that Chuck and Blair were his friends or anything, but apparently Jenny was there, as were his father and stepmother. And Serena. Dan released a deep sigh and ran a hand through his tousled, dark waves. Serena, whom he hadn't seen since the whole Inside debacle. No doubt she would be flanked protectively by Nate and Eric, but Dan felt he should at least try to sort things out. Not romantically, as he was still seeing Charlie, who was surprisingly unlike her high society cousin, but he felt uncomfortable with the idea of Serena despising him.

The taxi pulled up to the hospital and Dan let out another sigh before squaring his shoulders and signing in to the visitor list. He reached the intensive care unit and felt his eyes widen when he took in his stepmother. He could barely recognize the woman - her clothing was wrinkled and (dare he believe his eyes?) casual, she had massive bags under her makeup-less eyes, and her hair was a blond bird's nest. She was running her hands up and down her yoga pants awkwardly, and though Dan dreaded disturbing her anxious ministrations, she was the only one in sight.

"Lily?" he asked carefully.

"Dan," she sighed, giving him a weary glance and dropping her hands to her sides. "I figured you'd come around eventually."

"Yes, well." Dan cleared his throat and shifted his eyes to the floor. "Chuck and Blair aren't exactly my favorite people, but uh, they are important to other people. That I know," he finished lamely, hoping Lily wouldn't read into his flimsy explanation too much.

"Serena is downstairs with Eric, Jenny, and Nate," Lily said shortly. Her tone was polite, but her blue eyes were cold, and Dan realized that Serena's mother was much more observant than he gave her credit for. "I'm assuming that is why you're here."

"Yes, well," he said again. "My whole family also happens to be here, and besides, I actually do care about what happens to Chuck and Blair."

"You mean so you can write about it in your next novel? It would make the bestseller list for sure."

Dan's head snapped up. "Wha - what?"

"Just go, Dan," Lily said in vexation, rubbing her eyes. "Cafe. Downstairs."

Dan considered arguing against her accusation, but he could see that she was exhausted, and furthermore, he needed to speak to Serena and the others before he lost his nerve. He expected the comment to bother him more than it did, but over the past few weeks, he found himself adjusting to the role his agent, Alessandra, wanted him to play. Brooding author, with eyes as sharp as his wit. As sharp as his tongue. Darker. More intense. Someone who knew how to pull the strings of the players without getting accused of being the puppeteer. Someone with power. And though Dan's book had only just been officially released the previous day, he already knew that he liked having power. Okay, so admittedly, his conversation with Lily hadn't successfully showcased his new attitude, but he was still working on the external exemplification of his internal metamorphosis.

"Dan? What are you doing here?"

Dan recognized Eric's voice and was pulled out of his thoughts.

"Checking on Chuck and Blair's status," he said, his answer much smoother than it had been with Lily. "The news reported that they were in some sort of accident, but Gossip Girl has been shut down, and there haven't been any details."Before Eric could respond, Dan saw someone he didn't think he would have to see and felt his stomach drop in fear, despite the fact that he'd claimed only a second before that she was part of the reason for his visit. Well, not part. One-half, to be exact, as she made up the "Blair" of "Chuck and Blair."

"I didn't realize this hospital had a rodent infestation," she said snidely, clutching her arms around her sides in what Dan presumed was a defensive stance.

"Nice to see you're doing well, Blair," Dan replied with an eye roll.

"Yes, I can tell you were very concerned about me," Blair mocked, taking a seat next to Eric. "But then again, maybe you were, and you already released all of your pent up anxiety through writing the creepy, stalker fiction you call novels."

"For your information, my novel was released -"

"Yesterday, I'm aware," Blair said coldly, narrowing her darker-than-usual eyes. "Rather interesting timing, wouldn't you agree? Within 48 hours of Charlie and Clair's car accident."

"Blair, it's not like that," said Dan. It looked bad, but when Alessandra called about finally putting out his book, it wasn't like he could say no. And yes, the accident was probably put into consideration when she made the decision, but that didn't mean Blair needed to cut down his major accomplishment.

"Humphrey, I don't care what it's like, to be honest. All I want in this point of time is for you to go away so that I don't have to pay an exterminator to come remove you."

"Oh come on, Blair."

"Humphrey," she repeated, her voice shrill. "I've had a very difficult 48 hours, unlike you, so why don't you go home, curl up with your Cabbage Patch doll, and call it a night?"

"Why so bitchy, Blair?" Dan asked, aware that his voice was getting higher and louder as well. "Did Chuck do something to get you all worked up? I swear you two are toxic -"

"Shut up! Don't you dare say a word about him to me!"

"Who, Chuck?" taunted Dan, raising his eyebrows.

"I'm warning you."

"It must have been bad..."

"IT WAS!" she exploded, before hunching her shoulders and settling her face in her hands. "It is," she amended, her voice hardly a whisper. "He - he's bad. In bad shape, I mean, and the blood transfusion...They won't tell me what's happening." Her body began to quake, and Dan nervously looked to the spot where Eric had been sitting, groaning when he saw that it was empty. Angry Blair Waldorf he could deal with, but sad Blair Waldorf? Hardly his forte.

"Blair, I'm really sorry," he mumbled, awkwardly patting one of her arms from across the table.

"Ew, don't infect me with your rabies," she managed to mutter back, swatting away his hand. "And I - I don't want your pity, or anyone else's. I just want - I need him to be okay."

"He will be," Dan replied, not knowing whether his statement was even remotely true, but that's what you were supposed to say in these scenarios, right? Chuck will be all right, Chuck will be fine, Chuck will be okay; everything will be all right and fine and okay. Blair raised her head and narrowed her eyes.

"Don't bullshit me, Humphrey. That's not you."

"You're right," he sighed. "I don't know whether he'll be okay or not. But I do know that you will."

"Not if he isn't." She shook her head, and Dan could see the beginning of tears form in her eyes.

"Even if he isn't," Dan argued. "Look, Blair, I know that for some twisted reason you and Chuck are madly in love, but if he ends up not making it, you're going to keep living. It'll be hard, but you're Blair Waldorf. You're strong enough."

"What if I'm not?" She looked up at him, her lashes dotted with glistening tears.

"You are," he insisted. "You said it yourself, I wouldn't bullshit you."

"Maybe I am," said Blair, so quietly he had to strain to catch her words. "But I want him anyway."

...

"Anything yet?" Blair asked an intern eagerly, chewing her pinky nail.

"As soon as Dr. Ravindran comes out, which should be just a few minutes, I'm sure that -"

"Here I am!" Dr. Ravindran entered the waiting room, somehow looking as clean and pristine as she had prior to Chuck's blood transfusion. Blair supposed she had a lot of the same white coat.

"And?" asked Lily, her eyes wide in apprehension.

"It went very well," said the doctor with a wide smile. Blair felt a breath rush out of her body, and her back immediately relaxed. "As well as we could have hoped."

"That's wonderful news," Lily said, a smile framing her face as well. "And how's Bart?"

"Oh, he's fine," Dr. Ravindran assured the women. "A little weak, but that's normal after giving blood."

"Good."

"Blair?" Dr. Ravindran asked, noticing the brunette's silence. "Do you have any specific questions for me?"

"When will he wake up?"

"I figured you'd ask that," said the grinning doctor. "And I have some good news on that front too. Chuck should be up within a few days, if our CT scan can be trusted and his body continues to respond well to the transfused blood."

"I know it hasn't been long, but it feels like years," whispered Blair, absentmindedly rubbing a pale hand over her stomach.

"Well, I'm sure he'll be overjoyed to see you too," answered Dr. Ravindran.

Blair didn't respond, overwhelmed by her conflicting emotions. Of course she was ecstatic that Chuck would be waking soon, and that overcame everything else, but below the surface, she was utterly afraid. She knew Chuck loved her more than anything, but she had no idea how he would react to the news that he would soon have a little boy or girl to love as well. He was only twenty, after all, and she just a few months older at twenty-one. Their lifestyles would have to become radically different. It was a lot to put on someone who had just been in a car accident and almost lost his life. She felt her back tense again and resumed chewing her pinky nail.

...

"Hey, Jen. Seen Serena anywhere?"

"Nope, sorry," said Jenny, practically ignoring Dan completely as she conversed with Eric and Jonathan, who had just arrived.

"Gee, thanks, sis." He continued to walk until he spotted a flash of gold and heard a loud laugh coming from the corner of the room, and he quickly turned to reach it. "Serena? Nate?"

"Oh, Dan, hey," said Serena, her smile fading but not leaving her face entirely. "How are you? It's been a while."

"Yeah, it has." Dan shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm pretty good, I guess. I'm enjoying the relaxation while I can before the crazy fame from the book starts."

"Oh right, your book was published yesterday wasn't it?" asked Nate, ignoring the cocky portion of Dan's sentence.

"Yep," Dan answered proudly, puffing out his chest. "I'm officially a published author."

"Congratulations," said Serena, actually meaning it. While she initially despised what Dan did with her character, she now took it as a creative, dramatized magnification of her flaws. It made for a better story than the trite "former bad girl turns good" angle, and she didn't blame him for choosing to make her into what he did. She probably would have done the same to him. The Blair/Clair part was still a little creepy, but that was beside the point.

"Thanks. Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead." Nate gestured to a seat at their cozy corner table and took a drink of his hot chocolate. Serena then proceeded to grab it and take a sip as well. She'd spilled hers everywhere and was too lazy to get up and order a new one. "Yes, go ahead and drink all of my hot chocolate," said Nate sarcastically, rolling his crystal blue eyes.

"Aw, you're so sweet," Serena answered with a giggle, patting his cheek.

"Seriously, Serena, give it back," laughed Nate, tugging on the cup.

"No!"

"It's mine!"

"Well too bad, it's mine now, and -" Serena didn't get the chance to finish her declaration as said hot chocolate flew through the golden couple's hands - right into the lap of Dan Humphrey.

"Ouch!" Dan screeched as the burning liquid seared him.

"Aw, shit, man, I'm really sorry -" Nate began to say, choking down a laugh.

"I'll get some paper towels," offered Serena, also stifling a giggle. "Yikes, it really hit you in the worst place possible." She eyed the growing stain on his khakis and, upon realizing he would look like he'd wet himself, she burst into deep laughter.

"Serena, what the hell?" asked Dan indignantly. "I could use some paper towels here!" He gestured towards his soiled pants, designer-name pants, to be exact, and one of the three pairs Alessandra had purchased for him. Just my luck, he thought. Then again, it was probably fate. Humphreys were just not cut out for wearing Michael Kors khakis. Or Michael Kors anything, really.

"I'm going!" Serena promised, still laughing hysterically. Nate echoed her merry sentiment and watched her, bright-eyed, as she went.

"I'm so glad I can be of service for your entertainment," muttered Dan.

"Come on, lighten up," said Nate, knocking Dan's shoulder lightly. "We can use all the laughs we get here. Serena's been taking everything pretty hard."

"Is she okay though?"

"She will be." Nate's eyes stayed latched onto the woman he loved. "She's stronger than she knows."

...

24 Hours Later

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Eleanor ran a hand through Blair's curls and gave her a small, tight smile. A smile that said she was worried about the answer her daughter would give.

"Fine."

"That's the answer people give when they're not fine," countered Eleanor with concern. "And besides, it's not like you to give one word answers to anything. You're quite the Chatty Cathy, dear."

"And God only knows where I got it from," commented Blair, cracking a slight grin at her mother's reddened cheeks.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with being sociable."

"Of course not, Mother," Blair said, the grin still on her face.

"Your spirits do seem to be up," observed Eleanor. "I'm assuming it was the good news about Chuck?"

"He should be up anytime now." Blair lovingly eyed the sleeping, hospital gown-clad figure of Chuck Bass before returning her gaze to Eleanor's warm eyes.

"We're all looking forward to when he is," Eleanor said genuinely. She had grown quite fond of the young Bass over the years, and though she was initially shocked (and disturbed) when Dorota had initially informed her of "Mr. Chuck and Miss Blair's secret rendezvous with strange animal noise," she now knew that her daughter was meant to be with Chuck. "Are you thirsty?" Eleanor suddenly asked Blair. "I'm parched."

"No, I have tea," said Blair, holding up a cup of Earl Grey.

"All right, well then I'll head down and be back in a bit."

"Okay." Blair's eyes immediately shot back to wear Chuck was lying in his hospital bed, and she scooted her chair over so that she could hold his hand. "I love you," she told him. "But you already know that. There is something you don't know, though, and I'm not sure how you're going to take it." She brushed a few dark strands of hair out of his face and sighed. "This is scary for me, too. I know I have my mom and Serena, Lily, and Eric, but it's you I need. And it's you our baby needs. You're probably going to doubt this at first, but I know you'll be an amazing father, Chuck."

Blair was still for a moment then climbed out of the chair and onto the emptier side of Chuck's bed. They were so close their noses were nearly brushing, and Blair could hear each perfect, even breath that left Chuck's mouth. She closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted, and started humming "La Vie En Rose" and reminiscing on their beautiful night at the New York Public Library, the night that they reconfirmed their love for one another. Blair remembered their promise to find their way back to each other, and knew that she had. She had a thriving campaign with Girls, Inc., a strong social standing in New York society, impressive grades and extracurriculars at Columbia...But most importantly, she was right where she belonged - next to Chuck, the love of her life. And when she first heard his voice, she thought she must be dreaming.

"Blair?"

But then her eyes opened and it was real - wonderfully, magically, incredibly real, which made it better than any dream she could have had.

"Chuck!"

What breaks your bones

Is not the load you're carrying

What breaks you down

Is all in how you carry

**Until next time - xoxo**


	30. The Battle of Evermore

*Hides face in shame* So sorry for the long wait! Hope you like the chapter!

Thank you: pLei4fun (haha glad you liked that scene! i love when embarrassing things happen to dan :), Chairytale Ending (don't worry, serenate is endgame for this story!), anabelle12 (haha that is 100 percent okay! i don't like him either!), chairfan (thanks! :), Sparkleyangel (you'll find out in the next chapter! any guesses?), QueenC (thank you so much! :), and hipskip11 (asjkhaksjd i know! they are perf!)

And GOOD NEWS! You will find out who the mystery man and woman are in the next chapter! Does anyone have any guesses?

Chapter 30: The Battle of Evermore

The pain of war cannot exceed the woe of aftermath,

The drums will shake the castle wall, the ring wraiths ride in black, Ride on.

Sing as you raise your bow, shoot straighter than before.

No comfort has the fire at night that lights the face so cold.

- "The Battle of Evermore" Led Zeppelin

**Gossip Girl: Much to the delight of all my faithful readers, NYC's very own Prince Charles has now awoken from his deep sleep. But rumor has it there may just be a malicious dragon or two still waiting in the wings. You know you love me.**

...

"It's time," he said coldly, motioning for the woman to come stand by his side. He gazed out into the city, eyeing the blue-windowed skyscrapers and the surrounding water.

"What does that mean?" she asked, her voice similarly frigid but with a slight quiver to it.

"We've been unsuccessful from afar. There are too many variables. We need someone right in the middle of things, a means to ensure that it won't go wrong this time."

"You want me to - to -"

"You won't be the one to do it," he assured, though it did nothing to comfort her. "But you will make sure that it goes off without a hitch for the man who will."

"And that man will be -"

"Yes," he answered, reading the look on her face. "And I know you don't like him -"

"I despise him, and I don't trust him," she cut in sharply, a scowl on her face.

"-but he's the best man for the job, and we can't fail again. We're already on a tight leash as it is, and we can't have that leash becoming a noose around our necks. _All _of our necks," he added pointedly, knowing she would recognize the threat in his words.

"I understand," said the woman, wishing that things could be different.

"Your flight leaves tonight." The man shifted his eyes back out the window. "By this time tomorrow, you'll be back in New York."

…

"When did he wake up? Why wasn't I informed immediately?" The blue eyes were frantic until they met another pair of eyes, familiar eyes of hazel.

"He just woke up, Bart," said Lily softly, patting his hand. "As did you. You've been asleep for the past few hours."

"Oh. Well have you seen him?"

Lily laughed, and it sounded like the tinkling of tiny silver bells. "As if I would willingly get in the middle of him and Blair. Apparently the nurse that was sent in to check on Chuck burst into tears when she saw how in love he and Blair are and how happy they were to see each other."

"Are all the nurses here pansies?" Bart scoffed. "The one I got was too scared to stick the needle in my vein, and I ended up doing it myself."

"Bart!" Lily chastised, her eyes widening partly in shock, partly in amusement. "You aren't supposed to do that."

"Come now, Lily, it's not as if Bass men are known for abiding by the rules," he said, giving her a wink.

She rolled her eyes. "I've heard that quite a few times over the years from your son. I'd hoped it would fade as he got older, but alas..."

"It's not going to happen," Bart finished for her, a grin on his face. "But he has Blair. She'll keep in line."

"That she will," agreed Lily, sliding her jacket off of her thin frame. "But who will keep you in line?"

"Well, you'll be able to," he said, "assuming you're planning to stay with Bass Industries."

"I - well - I hadn't thought about it much." She uncrossed her ankles and furrowed her brows. "I would like to. I quite enjoy the work, and it keeps me from turning into an old maid."

"You're far from being an old maid."

"Tell that to my daughter," Lily chuckled. "She was listening to a Pitbull on her phone the other day -"

"She was listening to a dog barking?"

"That's what I asked! She told me I was ancient. Apparently, a Pitbull is some sort of rapper."

Lily and Bart both laughed, the bells and baritone mingling in the air. Lily decided she quite liked the sound.

…

"He's awake! He's awake!"

Nate slowly lifted his heavy eyelids while lethargically stretching out his arms. He looked around and realized he had been sleeping on three chairs pushed together. There was a pillow under his head, but the plastic chairs were bare, explaining why he was aching in every part of his body _except _his head.

"We don't have time to dilly-dally! Did you not hear me? Chuck's _awake_!" Serena squealed in the same high-pitched tone. She was nearly buzzing with the anticipation of seeing her step-brother, and she tugged on a lock of Nate's dirty blond hair impatiently. "Aren't you excited?"

"Of course, but I'm sure he's enjoying his time reuniting with Blair," Nate said, his voice cracking as the sleep caught in his throat. "And he'll ask for us when he's ready."

"He already did, silly!" Serena laughed, this time grabbing his hand instead of his hair, much to Nate's relief. He loved Serena, but she wasn't always the most pleasant person to be woken up by. Well, except for sometimes when she would wake him up with hot, lingering kisses on his chest, or better yet, his - "_NATE_!" Serena yelled, breaking into his pleasant thoughts. "Am I going to have to go without you?"

"No." Carefully, Nate sat up with another pull of Serena's hand and grimaced as he heard various bones cracking. "But I'm going to have a hell of a time getting to the room."

"That's why we have elevators." Serena kept her hand in his as Nate limped beside her, still looking extremely unpleasant and in pain.

"Next time, I'm going home to sleep," he grumbled, though his mood wasn't nearly as foul as it appeared. He was so relieved Chuck was okay; he didn't know what he would do without his best friend. While normally easy going, Nate had been terrified for the past few days. He had taken to madly pacing back and forth in every hallway of every floor, his lips in a tight frown and his hands shoved in his pockets. He switched every hour and was now on a first-name basis with at least one concerned doctor on each level of the hospital. It was why he knew even as he said them, his words were lies. If Chuck was ever in another accident, Nate would remain at the hospital again, just like Chuck would for him, and probably end up knowing _two _doctors on every floor.

"We're here," squeaked Serena, eyeing the plain door in front of them. "Ready?"

Nate nodded, and she pushed open the door.

…

"Passports?"

"Check." Two voices said in unison.

"Hotel reservations?"

"Check."

"Phones?"

"Check."

"Guns?"

"Check."

The older man then leaned into the younger man's ear so that the woman wouldn't hear him. It helped that the private jet's engine was already running and provided a distracting sound on the runway. While their bosses were more often than not the source of their troubles, occasionally, there were perks, a luxury jet being one of them.

"And you have the extra item we discussed?" he murmured.

"Yes," said the young man, grinning in a way that made the woman shudder, despite her inability to discern the words being said. "I assure you, we won't be having any more trouble from our superiors. I'll handle it."

"Good," was the short reply. The woman was then addressed once more. "Will you be able to control yourself?"

"I'm always in control," she said snarkily, her voice a touch too sharp to be believable, but she hoped it was anyway.

"Sure you are, ice princess," laughed her New York-bound companion.

"Shut up."

"Now, now, you two, it won't do to fight amongst ourselves. There's too much at stake here for all of us. Just do your job, and get out. Are we clear?"

"Crystal." The young man flashed a set of fluorescent white teeth.

"Yes," agreed the woman, watching the jet with careful, hooded eyes.

"Then go. New York is waiting for you."

…

The blonds were greeted with the sight of two brunettes tangled into each other so closely, it was difficult to tell where one body began and the other ended.

"Chuck!" Serena immediately raced over and engulfed her adopted brother in an embrace.

"Serena - I just - recovered - are you - trying - to kill me?" Chuck choked out in gasps of air.

"Sorry!" she giggled. "I'm just so happy you're awake!"

"Hey, man," Nate said, giving Chuck a friendly slap on the shoulder. "You look like shit."

"Right back at you." Chuck eyed Nate's wild hair, which stuck up in random tufts, as well as his wrinkled and stained shirt and pants. "What did you do, trip into a trashcan?"

"Actually, I -"

"He refused to leave the hospital," Serena cut in, her voice a mix of annoyance and pride for her boyfriend. "I brought him clothes and soap, but he only showered and changed once."

"That's disgusting," Blair and Chuck said at the same time, Blair wrinkling her nose for added effect.

"Well, it's not as if hygiene is anyone's first priority when their best friend is in the hospital."

"Shouldn't be the last one either," Chuck countered, pointing out a particularly fragrant and unidentifiable red stain on Nate's pants.

"Ketchup," Nate said in explanation. "Jenny brought us burgers last night."

"Honestly, Nate, you couldn't at least change?"

"All right, can we please change the subject already? Yes, I don't exactly look my best, but none of us do, so -"

"I for one happen to think Blair looks beautiful," argued Chuck, kissing the corner of her upturned ruby mouth.

"Why thank you, Bass. Now, if I can have everyone's attention please -"

"Don't you always?"

"Not when you interrupt me, S. As I was saying before that rude interjection -" Serena snorted, but Blair plowed on. "I have an announcement to make. After everything we've been through, I wanted all of you to be here when I said it."

"The anticipation is killing us," Serena said sarcastically. Amused blue eyes met fiery brown ones.

"Okay, I'll just say it, throw caution to the wind," Blair said, appearing to be in the midst of convincing herself. She kept lifting her pinky nail as if to chew on it but resisted, instead playing with the fraying ends on the blanket strewn over her and Chuck.

"Go on, Blair," Nate encouraged, recognizing her nervousness.

"The doctor told me when I woke up." Blair closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant!"

…

Oh dance in the dark of night, Sing to the morning light.

The magic runes are writ in gold to bring the balance back. Bring it back.

At last the sun is shining, The clouds of blue roll by,

With flames from the dragon of darkness, the sunlight blinds his eyes.

**Until next time - xoxo**


	31. Babel

THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED! (Well, kinda.)

Thank you, thank you to: CBfan (I'm curious to see what you think of the identities!), pLei4fun (You'll have to wait and seeeee ;), Sparkleyangel (I'm glad you don't know! Hopefully this will be a surprise for you!) alyxoxo821 (Aww, thank you so much! That happens to me all the time - I've gotten so much less sleep since I discovered FF haha... I hope this one keeps you on the edge of your seat!), Moozanna (Thanks for the review!), and Smallville944, who was amazing enough to review EVERY chapter. YOU ROCK.

**Chapter 31: Babel**

I'll know my weakness, know my voice

And I believe in grace and choice

And I know perhaps my heart is fast,

But I'll be born without a mask

-"Babel" Mumford & Sons

Blair worried her lower lip as she waited for the responses of her three best friends, the members of the self-proclaimed Non-Judging Breakfast Club. She cast a prayer to God, to whatever deities could be looking out for her, that they wouldn't judge her for this.. She couldn't bear it if they did. Serena, she felt, would be most excited, thinking of tiny, designer baby clothes and shoes and a new source of entertainment in her life. Nate would probably smile in his easy way and go along with Serena, watching her enthusiasm with a mix of adoration and amusement. And Chuck... he was, as always, the wildcard in Blair's streamlined and organized thoughts. Streamlined and organized until it came to him.

Chuck could take it either of two ways, Blair decided. He would either run until he couldn't see the New York skyline or accept reality with silent resignation. There was no way she would allow herself to hope for anything more than the latter option; it was already approaching optimistic at best. and imaginatively idealistic at worst She knew that Chuck had grown significantly since he'd left nothing but a note and a cold bed to greet her the morning after she'd professed her love for him for the first time, but then again, he was a wildcard, and there was a reason the Joker was left out of nearly every card game. He was too unpredictable, even for the queen, and quite a dangerous player in games that involved the heart. Blair supposed it was the reason she blurted out the news when she did; perhaps when he saw Serena's happiness, Nate's warm grin... But no. Blair internally chastised herself for the pestering hope that tingled through her veins, sliding through her bloodstream until it was knocking on the door of her heart. Hope may have been the salvation of optimists, but it was her downfall, if only because she desperately wanted to be weak, to let it be her salvation too. She forced herself to slam the door in its face.

"Wait, B, really?" Serena's near-shriek broke Blair out of her mind's ramblings, and she offered Serena a tentative smile.

"Yeah."

"Congratulations, Blair," said Nate, grinning her very favorite grin in the exact manner she'd predicted.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! I'm going to be an aunt!"

Blair was immediately crushed by a loop of willowy tanned arms and couldn't help but widen her smile, despite her fear that being right about the reactions of two out of the three people in the room meant she would no doubt be right about the last. It was a sick sort of irony - Blair Waldorf actually _wanted_ to be wrong.

"You'll make an amazing aunt, S," she assured, lightly laughing as Serena squeezed tighter. Blair's mouth slammed shut, however, as she met Chuck's eyes over Serena's shoulder. His face appeared frozen in contemplation, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly slack, until the tiniest of cracks appeared in his demeanor, and the corners of his mouth turned up. Blair allowed herself to smile back in a way she hoped was reassuring.

"Your birthday?" he queried, his voice surprising her with its strength. Serena released her, and Blair nodded dumbly in response to Chuck's question, not sure whether to laugh or cry when he started to smirk. "That was...a good night."

"It was," she agreed quietly, folding her hands in her lap and lowering her lashes.

"We're going to be...I'm going to be -"

"-someone's dad," Nate finished, a lopsided smile gracing his handsome face. "Poor kid's hopeless."

"Hey," Serena scolded, flicking Nate's head playfully. "Chuck's going to be great. And besides, she's going to have Blair as her mom, and Blair's incredible at anything she does."

"She?" Blair raised a sculpted brow, ignoring the swelling of her heart at the second half of Serena's comment.

"Well, I guess it _could _be a he, but I'm hoping I'll get to take the baby to fashion week with me next year in a little Chanel outfit or something..." Serena trailed off dreamily.

"Serena, a baby is not an accessory! You can't bring a child to a fashion show like you would one of those purse dogs!"

"Come on, B, I only meant -"

"Oh no, it's already starting," laughed Nate, elbowing his best friend lightly as the girls continued to bicker and babble.

"What?" Chuck asked, eyeing Blair's stomach as if he expected the thing to pop out at any second yelling, "Daddy! Daddy!"

"The baby talk, of course," he said. "Probably won't stop for another eight months."

"Eight months," Chuck repeated. Nate noticed the somewhat vacant look in Chuck's eyes and took it upon himself to drag Chuck out of the bed and into a chair off to the side.

"Are you alright with all this?" Nate asked, concern wrinkling his brow. "I mean, if it were Serena..."

"If it were Serena?" Chuck pressed.

"I would be scared as hell." Nate ran a hand through his sandy hair and laughed. "But then I'd imagine a kid running around with blond hair and blue eyes, giggling at everything like S does, and I think I would be...okay."

"I'm definitely...nervous," Chuck said, settling on a word that could accurately describe the emotions tearing through him at the moment. When Blair had said the word "pregnant," he'd immediately felt a string of them course through him in rapid succession - fear and anxiousness, of course, but also, much to his surprise, he felt bursts of excitement and happiness. He supposed it in part had to do with the way Blair had said it, as if _she _was excited and happy about it. And though he was young, really young, with absolutely no experience at caring for anyone, Blair somehow believed in him. Apparently so did Serena, if her previous statement was anything to go off of, and he was suddenly overcome with love and gratitude for the two women - the love of his life as well as the bright blond he had considered his sister for over two years now. And then there was Nate, his best friend, who caringly pulled him aside to make sure he wasn't going to go into some sort of shock. It was then that Chuck realized the truth of the situation.

"I'm definitely nervous," he repeated, keeping his gaze locked on his fingers as he created a bridge then pulled it apart every few seconds. "But the baby is going to have Blair as a mother and you and Serena as his or her uncle and aunt. No matter what happens, I know the baby is going to be surrounded by people that love him or her, and growing up without that makes you realize how important it is. How, really, it's all you need. And the baby is going to have so much love that he or she won't doubt for a second that the world is full of it." Chuck finally raised his eyes only to meet Blair's, which were rapidly spilling over with tears. She raced over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering in his ear as soon as she was close enough.

The only words he caught, that he could think straight enough to catch at the moment were, "I love you."

…

**Gossip Girl: Move over, William and Kate. You've got nothing on the monarchy of Manhattan...Yes, Upper East Siders, it's true. Our very own Queen B and King of the Empire are expecting a little prince or princess late this summer, and it's me bringing you the news first. More royally juicy details to follow. You know you love me.**

…

"Is it true?" asked Bart. He and Chuck had been talking for the past hour or so, and he had refrained from commenting on the blast, but at this point, it was close to killing him.

"It's true," Chuck confirmed, immediately knowing what his father was alluding to. He wasn't sure whether he was supposed to elaborate or if Bart simply wanted the facts.

"And?" Bart prompted.

"And Serena's thrilled." Well, that was a safe topic, though he assumed Bart knew this already, seeing as Serena had torn down the halls of the hospital wing yapping about her future niece or nephew. She and Lily were probably designing the nursery and designer baby closet at that very moment.

"And what about you?"

"I - I'm still absorbing it, but I'm..." he struggled for words, unable to pluck the right one from his brain.

"Happy?" Bart provided, inspecting his son's countenance with pride. Chuck did seem happy, if a bit unsure, and Bart was, much like his former stepdaughter, excited about the prospect of expanding the family.

"I suppose I am," Chuck said, nodding at his father. "What about you? What do you think?"

"I think my son is going to be a great father," said Bart, his warm tone still a bit strange to Chuck's ears. "And I'm going to have an incredible grandchild. Between you and Blair, that child is bound to be brilliant _and _good looking. Bass Industries is secure for at least the next century," he joked. Chuck laughed a little at his father, not merely because he found the quip amusing but because his father was actually _telling _a joke.

"Thanks," said Chuck, and he meant it. He appreciated his father's praise even more now than he did when he was younger, back when he responded with women, booze, and drugs when he failed to receive it.

"You're welcome. So," said Bart casually, leaning back in his chair. "Are you going to marry Blair, or what?"

...

"This changes nothing you know," he said, eyeing the woman, who, with wide eyes, was looking at the most recent Gossip Girl blast.

"It changes everything for me," she hissed, knowing she couldn't win this battle but preparing to fight him regardless. "You know my situation, and-"

"Yes, yes, you're now a sentimental sap, I've been disappointed by it too many times to count," he drawled, slipping his suit jacket over his shoulders.

"I can't take away that child's father. I won't."

"You will, and you know it. You have your own to look after. He's why you're involved in all this in the first place, right?"

"How - how do you-"

"-know that? Let's just say a couple of our teammates have loose tongues, and it's not as if I've lost my knack for inductive reasoning. I had a fair number of specifics; I simply had to derive the general principle of it all." He glared at her when she remained silent; she was so different from the young woman he remembered from the Upper East Side, so reserved and, he shuddered, _moral_. Since when had she possessed morals, and why did she seem so intent on sticking to them? "Come on, Georgina, perk up. You used to live for this."

"No," she nearly whispered, her voice hoarse and her crystal blue eyes clouding in regret. She hugged her arms around herself and rubbed them absentmindedly. "Not for this. _Never_ for this."

"Then do it for the kid," he taunted. "Milo, is it?"

"You don't get to talk about him. You don't get to talk about anything with me! I don't want to hear your voice, or even see your face, or-"

"That's precisely the feisty spirit we need, G. See? You haven't lost it completely." He sauntered over to her side and attempted to throw an arm around her jacket-clad shoulders. She ducked away before he could, and he let out a lazy chuckle. "You know I was hoping we'd get along better than this. You used to be fun."

"Yeah, well people change, not that you'd know, Baizen. You're still stuck on our dear friend S, aren't you?" she growled, her eyes flashing. "Is that why you're doing all this?"

"Yes and no," he said cryptically, taking a bottle of liquor out of the hotel cabinet.

"That's it? All you're going to say?"

"Well it's not as if I'm going to give you my life story while we braid each other's hair," he quipped, pouring himself a stiff shot of whiskey. He held up a second glass and was met with a grimace and shake of the head. "Guess that's a no then."

"How can you be okay with this, Carter?" she asked, realizing too late the words sounded vulnerable, yet she was simply too weak to care. "These people...they were our friends once."

"That was a long time ago," he said, downing another burning shot. His eyes darkened as he did, and he gained the look of a demon. They were, after all, in hell, and it seemed only fitting that he would begin to resemble the devil. He took a deep breath before finishing his final, sinister thought. "And Bass was never any friend to me."

…

Like the city that nurtured my greed and my pride,

I stretch my arms into the sky

I cry Babel! Babel! Look at me now

Then the walls of my town, they come crumbling down

**Until next time - xoxo**


	32. Islands

***gets on knees***

***apologizes profusely***

***grovels at your feet***

***is so adorable you can't help but forgive me***

extra love to: pLei4fun (we'll see :), Sparkleyangel (you'll find out eventually ;), Chairville944 (so many mysteries hehe), .stark (thank you!), & alyxoxo821 (me too! it made me teary-eyed!)**  
**

**Chapter 32: Islands**

I don't have to leave anymore

What I have is right here

Spend my nights and days before

Searching the world for what's right here

-"Islands" The xx

"When do they back from Aspen?"

"Jesus, Carter," snapped Georgina, her eyes alighting in annoyance. "I've told you ten times already."

"I know." Carter hit his foot on the leg of the stool, creating a string of sharp raps as the dark alligator skin of his shoe met mahogany.

"Wait a second, are you _nervous_?" Georgina asked, watching his foot as it continued to _tap tap tap _against the barstool. She would have laughed at her companion if their situation was in any way humorous, which it wasn't. Obviously.

"No," he said, though a note of desperation broke out of his typical, casual drawl. "When the hell do they get back?"

"Two days," Georgina answered. "And before you ask, they've been gone for eight."

"Eight. Okay, eight. Two more days."

"You're sure you're all right?"

"Shut up, I'm fine," Carter growled, gesturing for the bartender to pour him another drink.

"Merry Christmas to you too." Two pairs of blue eyes met.

"It's Christmas?"

"Ho-ho-fucking-ho," she practically spat, curling her lips, painted a seasonal red, into a smirk. "Did you really not notice that the jolly old Saint Nick on 40th practically tried to molest me after I said merry Christmas?"

"I thought he was just hugging you because you look like you got runover by a reindeer."

"Hilarious." Georgina swatted his arm but opened her compact mirror to inspect her reflection regardless. Unfortunately, Carter seemed to be right - her concealer was ineffective in hiding the deep shadows under her eyes, her eyes themselves lacked luster, and her hair hung in a dull heap down her shoulders.

"You miss your kid, don't you?" She didn't answer. "Of course you do, but come on, don't you see? Once this is all over, you'll never have to miss the little squirt on Christmas ever again."

"Once this is all over," she whispered, staring at the untouched liquid in her glass. This version of her person was much more forgiving - the amber glow made her face look significantly less pallid, and her eyes were given a glimmer by the glare of the crystal.

"You know what? You could buy a minivan after this - yeah, a minivan, a blue one or something - and be a regular soccer mom. Damn, that'd be hilarious."

"A regular soccer mom who's also a murderess," she said grimly.

"Well, every soccer mom has her secrets. Moms do scary shit for their kids."

"I can't drive anyway," Georgina mumbled, mostly to herself, but Carter unsurprisingly interjected.

"So you'll learn. Say, that could be my Christmas present to you - driving lessons! I'll find a driving school, and you'll be licensed in a week max," he concluded, a smug grin on his face.

"And my gift to you will be a nice, long stay at the Ostroff Center."

"You really think I'm crazy?"

"I know you are."

"Well," he said contemplatively, "you're spending your Christmas with me when you could be spending it with anyone in New York."

"You don't even know when Christmas _is_, and even after figuring out it was today, _you_ are content to talk about _killing people_," she argued in a low but heated voice. "You're ahead by miles in the race toward insanity."

"And yet you're still here."

"You want me gone? Fine," she snapped, grabbing her purse and slipping the chain over her shoulder. "I'm leaving."

"Slip Santa Claus a Ulysses for me, would you? A Ben Frank if he agrees to put me on the nice list." If the slammed door was any indication, Santa wouldn't be receiving another penny.

...

"Mm, merry Christmas, Bass," Blair murmured, folding into Chuck's arms, completely sated.

"And a very merry Christmas to you..._Bass_." Blair laughed into the crook of his elbow.

"Our parents are going to kill us."

"Maybe me. They wouldn't hurt a pregnant woman," he mused. "At least, I don't think they would."

"They'll wait until I after I have the baby. _Then _they'll kill me."

"Hey," he argued, poking at her stomach playfully as she giggled, "what about Serena and Nate? They have a share in the responsibility as our marriage's witnesses, wouldn't you agree?" Blair thought a moment before pulling the covers up around her chin and reaching for the spare fur blanket.

"Those two wouldn't know how to be devious or deceitful if we gave them the manual. Unfortunately, I think we'll have to face the music on our own with this one."

"But aren't accomplices considered equally as culpable for a crime?"

"They could plead that they were inebriated when making the decision to help," Blair said, "which would relieve them of some responsibility; plus, it throws out premeditation." Blair could feel Chuck smirk into her bare back, and she twisted her head to face him. "Was that supposed to be a test?"

"You're going to make an amazing lawyer, Blair," he said sincerely, locking eyes with her, his beautiful wife, the mother of his unborn child. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said, smiling, as she lifted a palm to his cheek. "And yes, I'm glad I've finally chosen a career path. After talking my way out of that snafu at the ski lodge with Nate, I knew it was my calling."

"I still can't believe our dear Nathaniel _punched _a security guard."

"The creep was trying to feel Serena up. What would you have done?"

"Ah, and now I'm getting _my _test," he sighed as Blair laughed. "Well, if it had been you, I don't think I would have needed to do anything - I've gotten my fair share of slaps, smacks, and kicks to the shin over the years, so I can attest to your fire below."

"If you're expecting an apology-"

"Please. I know better. And as for Serena..." He trailed off, smirking. "I could have just sent you over, couldn't I?" Blair rolled her eyes.

"That lazy, huh?"

"I was mainly referring to the fact that my physical capabilities begin and end with _this_." He flipped her body over so that he was hovering overhead and pinned her small wrists down to the bed. Blair looked up at him, breathless, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"You know, I wasn't hoping for a sporty child, anyway."

...

"They got married." Bart said it cooly, solidly, seemingly without a trace of emotion, but Lily knew him well enough to notice the little things - the way his voice was a pitch higher than usual, the way his eyes had a shine to them, the way his mouth perked up just the tiniest bit on the word "married." He was pleased.

"They WHAT?" Eleanor gasped, her glasses teetering on the bridge of her nose.

"Serena and Nate were the witnesses; they must have gotten a marriage license before they left."

"I can't believe my baby would get married without me there," Eleanor said, frowning in disappointment.

"No doubt they simply wanted to avoid the media circus that surrounds a society wedding," Cyrus put in logically, "especially with Blair's pregnancy." He grabbed Eleanor's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "I'm sure they'll let you throw them a party when they return, dear."

"Well, they better," she said snidely, "or they'll face the wrath of Eleanor Rose." Lily, who was seated on the chaise lounge across from Eleanor, chuckled quietly before tightening her woven Missoni wrap around her shoulders. Its hues of olive green, yellow, and pink were outside of her typical palette, but she had been in a good mood lately - not that Rufus was helping in that regard. He was incessantly hovering, hardly ever leaving the penthouse, and she could not, for all the Louboutins in the city, understand his obsession with knowing every detail of her life. "Husband" did not equate to "human diary," but Rufus seemed to be under the impression that it did.

"Bart," said Lily, addressing the only standing figure in the room, "how do you even know any of this?"

"You think after that accident I was going to let them leave the state without any sort of supervision?"

"And do they know about your hired eyes and ears?"

"Of course. Charles has had people keeping an eye on Blair for years."

"Excuse me?" Eleanor screeched, attempting to rise from the couch despite Cyrus's attempts to restrain her. "I cannot be the only one who finds this discomforting."

"Blair is aware of it as well. She's far too intelligent and observant not to," Bart said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Honestly, Eleanor, you can't be that surprised. Bass men look out for their women." He cast a pointed look in Lily's direction. "Which I'm sure some people in this room can attest to."

"Oh yes, I remember the days of the bodyguard brigade," she said, shaking her head in amusement. "They're much subtler now though, so thank you for that."

"Yet you've still managed to notice them?" Bart asked, his light blue eyes widening. "I really thought they'd slip under your radar this time."

"Not much slips under my radar anymore, which I believe I owe a lot to Charles, so thank you for _that _as well." Bart laughed deeply and nodded in agreement.

"Hey, the kid turned out okay. He did end up with Blair, after all."

The parents couldn't help but smile proudly at that one.

...

Serena was half-asleep in the hot tub, her blonde head leaning against Nate's shoulder and the snowflakes dotting her black lashes with white.

"It's not Christmas anymore," she said quietly, a pout on her face. "I hate the day after Christmas."

"Why?"

"All the magic sort of...disappears as soon as the clock strikes midnight," she explained. "The anticipation is on Christmas Eve, the excitement is on Christmas day, and the disappointment that it won't come again for 364 days starts up at 12 o'clock sharp." She sighed dramatically after taking a weary glance at her phone. 12:02 A.M.

"Serena, we're naked. In a hot tub. In Aspen," Nate argued. "Plus, it's snowing. I'm not sure what kind of magic you're talking about, but this is about as good as it gets for me."

"I know how it could be better," she said with a sly smirk, turning to loop her arms around Nate's neck.

"Making magic of our own, hm?"

"All night, Natie."

Two hours later, they were tangled together on the couch, drinking hot chocolate and still unclothed.

"How's December 26th going for you now?" Nate asked, rubbing his foot against hers. She laughed as his toes tickled the skin of her heel.

"It's been magical, thank you." She kissed the chocolate mustache he was sporting off of his face and repeated his question back to him.

"Mine has been perfect. In fact, I think this would be a perfect scene for one of Disney's fairy tales."

"Um, Nate? You do realize that Disney movies are made for like six-year-olds, right?"

"Come on, they're not just for six-year-olds! _Finding Nemo_ happens to be one of my favorite movies, and Ellen as Dory was genius, okay?"

"Yes, and a scene of us naked on the couch would fit right in," said Serena sarcastically. "Or maybe something in the hot tub to go with the whole underwater thing?"

"It could be like grownup Disney, you know? Like how they spelled out "sex" in the stars in _The Lion King_."

"Is that true?" she asked skeptically. "Because I always thought-"

"Yeah, it's true! Do they have Netflix here, because-"

"Nate, they have Netflix anywhere there's internet."

"That's it, we're watching it," he decided, opening his laptop and placing it on top of his massive pile of blankets. Serena laughed at his enthusiasm.

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you this determined."

"There are some in _Aladdin _too, and _Pocahontas _and _The Little Mermaid_ and..."

"And this is shaping up to be a long night in a much different way than I expected," Serena muttered to herself as Nate went on, a smile on her face nonetheless.

...

Underneath and unexplored

Islands and cities I have looked

Here I saw

Something I couldn't overlook

I am yours now

So now I don't ever have to leave

I've been found out

So now I'll never explore

**Until next time - xoxo**


End file.
